


Transference

by almaasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Additional Warnings in Author’s Note, Affectionate Elim Garak, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Autistic Julian Bashir, Bisexual Julian Bashir, Caring Elim Garak, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domesticity, Episode: s04e25 Body Parts, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, Intersex Julian Bashir, Intimacy, Lonely Julian Bashir, M/M, Moving In Together, Mpreg, Past Julian Bashir/Leeta - Freeform, Pining, Polyamorous Julian Bashir, Polyamory, Pregnant Julian Bashir, Romance, Schmoop, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved, Transgender Julian Bashir, implied PTSD, seriously so much cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Suddenly serving as the surrogate carrier for Miles and Keiko’s unborn baby has been much harder for Julian than he lets on. Being nourished and read to and massaged and generally doted on night and day by a crowd of his closest friends is unquestionably lovely – yet even now, after five months, all the attention has somehow failed to satisfy him completely. Only when Garak leaves DS9 on an away mission, and a parting hug goes on a minute too long, does Julian realise what he desperately needs: cuddles. Once Garak is back, they’ll be doing a lot of that. An awful, awful lot.
Relationships: Elim Garak/Julian Bashir, Julian Bashir/Miles O'Brien, Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 151





	1. Targ Tea Party

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve tagged this as ‘Transgender Julian’ so people looking for this sort of thing can find it, but in this fic Julian is actually intersex. I’m aware they’re different. :P (Everything about his gender presentation is the same as in canon; he just happened to out himself as having a womb when Kira wasn’t on that shuttle in the episode ‘Body Parts’.)
> 
> Fic was inspired by [this post thread](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/617049547477254144/a-stitch-in-time-and-space) and the extreme excitement I feel having fallen into a fandom that seems to actively crave the kinds of stories I want to write! I’ve never seen so much support for a trans or intersex reading of a character in a fandom before, and I adore it. I kept writing trans-adjacent, gender-nonconforming, and nonbinary things for other fandoms, but I’ve never gone so hard as I’ve gone here. I’m in my element, dear space friends. I loved writing this SO MUCH.
> 
> This story contains spoilers for 5x16 ‘Dr. Bashir, I Presume’, plus non-sexual nudity, mentions of body parts performing their natural functions, and mild sexual references but no sex.
> 
> FYI Julian had to operate on himself in order to save Keiko and the baby (this occurs off-screen), but that was An Ordeal, hence the ‘Implied PTSD’ tag. He’s an emotional wreck when talking about it, and has an intense panic attack when the sense memories are triggered during birth. (Dear god, they needed a therapist on DS9 way sooner.)
> 
> Regarding polyamory: Julian’s a bit in love with everyone all at once. Certain people are a little in love right back, namely Miles and Leeta - and Keiko, but in a more platonic way. (Garak, however, is a LOT in love.)
> 
> Beta’d by [sweetdreamspootypie](https://sweetdreamspootypie.tumblr.com/), [sippingteabythesea](https://sippingteabythesea.tumblr.com/), [conceptadecency](https://conceptadecency.tumblr.com/), and [lighthouse](https://fineillgettheapp.tumblr.com/), with writerly support and art betaing provided by [anupalya](https://anupalya.tumblr.com/), [sweetdreamspootypie](https://sweetdreamspootypie.tumblr.com/), and my mother. (Legs are hard to draw. Especially when Julian has An Unusual Amount of Leg.)
> 
> ♥ [Art post!](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/617049243884109824/checks-notes-uhhhhhhh-one-order)

Former tennis champions did not _waddle_. Starfleet Chief Medical Officers who usually had 20% more leg than torso did not _waddle_. Julian Subatoi Bashir in particular did not, under any circumstance, _waddle_.

It was really more of an awkward shuffle.

The comforting thing was that people kept telling him he was _glowing_ , and that he looked _beautiful_ (or occasionally _adorable_ ), and that slightly manic, unhinged look in his eye came across as determined, or even _courageous_.

Frankly, he felt none of those things. And for five months now, he’d been trying very hard not to waddle. But day by day, as the baby grew, remaining sprightly and elegant was becoming more of a challenge.

He made his way to the O’Briens’ quarters after work, panting a little, one hand on his bulbous belly. For a moment, he leaned a shoulder on the wall, taking a rest...

An ensign rounded the far end of the hallway. Julian quickly straightened and put on a friendly smile, and the ensign’s face lit up and split into a grin. Julian kept smiling until the ensign passed, then he slumped and reached to buzz the doorbell.

The doors opened immediately, and he entered. Not caring to perform now that he was hidden from the world, he groaned and gradually levered himself backwards into the couch cushions, eyes shut.

Keiko came closer. A warm smile rounded her voice as she said, “Long day, huh?”

Julian just groaned again.

He let out a breath as Keiko lifted his feet onto a footstool, unzipped his boots, then took off his socks for him.

“Eight months pregnant today,” Keiko remarked. “You’re doing great, Julian. Imagine! Just four more weeks and our baby’ll be out of you. Bet you’re looking forward to that, huh.”

Julian managed a lopsided smile. “Hm.”

He wasn’t certain whether he _was_ looking forward to that. Of course he wanted his life to go back to normal. He missed playing tennis and racquetball. He missed getting drunk and singing badly with Miles. He missed his secret agent holosuite games – it just wasn’t the same when he couldn’t get shoved against a wall or punched through a window. He missed dating, he missed sex; he missed Leeta.

But also... he dreaded giving birth. He tried not to think about what was coming, in a daily effort to stay calm.

The idea that he’d gone through all of this and it wasn’t even _his_ baby was nigh incomprehensible to him. The baby was probably going to have Keiko’s monolidded Japanese eyes, like Molly did, and Miles’ curly Irish hair, and not one _hint_ of Julian’s Sudanese-Arabian roots. The concept had been floating around his consciousness for the five months since the shuttle accident, when he’d transferred the fetus from Keiko’s womb to his own, and it still hadn’t landed. ‘It wasn’t his baby’ didn’t make _sense_. Neither, for that matter, did the idea that it _was_.

However, the bottom line was: despite the unfathomable nonsense of his life right now, the baby was important.

There was a vulnerable, precious creature growing inside Julian. He needed to keep it alive. That was the whole point.

_That_ , he could fathom. So that was what he focused on.

The doors to the O’Briens’ quarters hissed open, and Miles came strutting in, his grin huge when he saw Julian. “Eight months today, did you realise?” he exclaimed. “Ahh, look at yeh, all conked out. Here, I brought you something.”

Miles leaned over to Keiko, gave her a kiss, then sat on the sofa next to Julian and offered him an ugly bowl of grapes. “Real, not replicated. Quark actually pulled through for once.” He popped one green fruit into his mouth and made his cheek bulge. “Wan’h sh’ome?”

Julian opened his mouth. “Ah?”

Miles chuckled and dropped a grape in. Julian peeled it with his teeth and then sucked on the plump and solid innards. He found the roundness comforting.

Miles shared the grapes with Keiko, who went to find them a better dish.

After a minute, Miles hopped his backside from the sofa to the second footstool and began to massage Julian’s feet. “You’re quiet,” Miles observed. “Tired, huh.”

“Hm.”

Six-year-old Molly came pottering out of Julian’s bedroom clutching her toy targ in both hands. She ran to Julian and handed him the plush animal, grinning. “He’s pregnant too,” she told him. “He’s having eleven baby targs, an’ I’m naming them after the Bajoran planets. We did it in school today.”

Julian felt himself brightening, head rising from the backrest cushions. He picked up Piggy the targ and balanced four soft feet on his belly. “Eleven,” he marvelled. “Eleven’s an awful lot, don’t you think, Molly?”

“They’ll all have brothers and sisters to play with,” Molly noted. “And Piggy will love all of them just as much as the others,” she added, matter-of-factly.

Julian shot Keiko a knowing look, beaming when she grinned back.

“I’m sure Piggy’s going to be a wonderful parent,” Julian assured Molly. “Ih— Is he raising his family alone, or...?”

“No, all his friends are helping,” Molly said, taking back Piggy and sitting on the rug. She made Piggy stand up beside her feet. “They’re coming for tea at eighteen-hundred hours.”

“Oh, _very_ organised,” Julian said. He heaved his torso up a bit more, hands digging deep into the sofa. “ _Ah_. Whew! I hope I’m invited for tea too?”

Molly grinned up at him. “Nuuu,” she chided. “You’re too big, Uncle Julian. You’ll squash them all.”

Julian’s smile wavered. He tried to cover his pang of dismay with a laugh, but he heard how hollow it was. “Too big. Yes...” He patted his humongous belly through his elasticated Starfleet jumpsuit. Some days the shape didn’t even look real to him. “Yes, I am a bit, aren’t I?”

Keiko assured him, “Just means our baby’s doing well.”

“Kind of impressive, in my opinion,” Miles added, digging a thumb into Julian’s aching left heel and wiggling. “Scrawny little bastard like you with a baby bump like that? Puh. The thing’s taking up practically a third of yeh by now.”

Julian swallowed, managing a dull smile.

“I mean,” Miles went on, his tone softening when he registered Julian’s discomfort, “uhhh. Like. Like, you’re big and round, Julian, but it’s not like you’re a whole other M-class planet, ya know? Maybe just a moon.”

Julian chuckled deeply. He was glad Miles still had the knack of making him laugh. He really needed that these days.

Before dinner came around, Julian got himself to the bathroom and back, now freshly showered and changed into a comfortable shirt and soft trousers. He sank into the pink sofa once again, which was where he lived during most of his waking downtime.

Keiko went off to help Molly with her play-fuelled research into the Bajoran planets, so Miles was left alone with Julian.

Miles liked to use time alone to sit close to Julian and read to the baby, and Julian was always enthused as he found his friend’s voice perhaps even more calming than the baby did. He shut his eyes, listening to Miles’ Irish brogue weave its way through his sentences as he read off a padd, telling a fairytale about a witch who cursed her neighbours for stealing cabbages from her vegetable garden. Julian smiled when he did the voices.

“ _Oh, won’t you get some for me, O husband of mine?_ ” Miles cried, falsetto. “ _I lie here in my bed and look out from my window, and I see only the garden. I crave those cabbages more than anything in the world..._

“And the husband gave in – who wouldn’t, honestly? Pregnant best friend wants grapes, you get him some damn grapes.” Miles added, “Or cabbages. Even if they belong to an evil witch who steals babies.”

“Ohh,” Julian said coquettishly, sliding a hand to touch Miles’ on his bump, linking their fingers together. “I wouldn’t want you going up against a _witch_.” He peeked out at Miles, who smiled back fondly.

“Hey,” Miles shrugged, “Quark’s close enough. And I defeated _him_ with a few slips of latinum. I call that a happily-ever-after.”

Julian chuckled, thumb stroking Miles’ hand. God, he really adored these moments. He always wished they could last longer.

He gasped, tensing – they’d both felt the baby kick. Julian’s head fell back as he giggled, then cooed to himself as Miles stroked his belly, lifting his shirt to touch skin.

“Bit feisty today, i’nnie?”

“He likes when you read and hates when you stop,” Julian said. “I think anyone would.”

Miles beamed as he ran his palm up and across the firm bubble of Julian’s middle, then back down to his navel, following the curve with the pressure of his hand. Touches like that always tingled, and sometimes hurt because of how tight his skin felt. Right now it tickled, and Julian squirmed, rocking his head into the sofa cushions and tittering.

The doorbell bleeped, and Julian lifted his head. He grumbled but then called, “Keeeeikooo,” with his head flopped back and chin up so he could see towards his bedroom.

Keiko emerged curiously.

“Door.”

Keiko called, “Come in!”

Julian pulled his top down in a hurry as a parade of people entered with bright eyes and happy smiles, making a lot of jovial noises.

“Jadzia!” Julian cried in delight, working his way up to his feet and opening his arms to hug her side briefly. “What are you doing h— Leeta!”

Leeta came and fussed over him, cupping his face and tugging him in for a chaste kiss. By the time she pulled back Julian was already opening his arms to Kira, who didn’t hug him, but did hand over a bowl of salad. Julian hugged the salad, grinning as he saw Garak skulking at the back of the crowd with his blue eyes crinkled in a smile.

“What’s everyone doing here?!” Julian exclaimed. “You’re not all here to see _me_ , are you?”

“Nope,” Jadzia smiled. “Keiko said there was a very special tea party for a pregnant targ, and we were all excited to join. Hey, Molly, is there room for all of us?”

Molly looked taken aback, but started to smile. She hugged Piggy and nodded.

“Not too big _now_ , am I,” Julian uttered, half to himself.

They settled around the sofa, since the sofa was the only place Julian could sit comfortably. Miles stayed on the footstool, while Molly and Jadzia sat on the rug with Garak between them, directly opposite Julian. Keiko and Leeta shared the sofa with Julian, and Kira perched on the opposite arm, with one bare foot on the floor and the other crossed across her thigh.

Between the lot of them, they doled out Kira’s Bajoran salad, plus accompanying slices of replicated squash, tomato and butterbean pie with sides of roasted potato and gravy.

During his pregnancy, Julian had been craving vegetarian Terran dishes and nothing else. So, over the last five months, Miles had worked frantically to add every meal he and Julian had ever eaten on Earth into the replicators’ pattern banks, from paneer tikka masala to cucumber sushi.

Over ten minutes, between soft-voiced overlapping discussions about grape imports, targ babies, and voles in the ventilator systems, every last scrap of Bajoran salad migrated from Julian’s plate to Keiko’s. Only Garak noticed, and Julian swore him to secrecy with a finger against his lips. Garak smirked and bowed his head, holding Julian’s eyes.

While they ate, Julian let his active attention hop between conversations but kept a running total of what was going on in the background. He didn’t need to say much; it was good just to listen, finally surrounded by the people he loved after weeks of being too tired and overwhelmed to attend any of their gatherings.

Soon the meal was over. Miles took away the empty plates, and tea was served.

It was warm in the room... and in Julian’s heart. He breathed deeply, enjoying the mingling scents of the people he thought of as family, and the spices of their favourite tea blends.

The door bleeped, and Miles welcomed the newcomer in, only for everyone to go quiet when they saw Quark enter.

“Whaaat?” Quark said defensively. He thrust out a wooden duck on a string, which lurched unhappily from side-to-side like a pendulum. “Just came to give you this. I was going to throw it out, but I figured, well... no need to waste good product.” He dumped the duck on the nearest table, then scoffed, “It’s not even worth enough to charge you. So.” He scowled and straightened his jacket, glaring at Julian. “I’d better see you in my bar once you’re finished with all this, doctor.”

Julian smiled. “Count on it, Quark.”

Quark left. The room erupted in fond laughter and “ _awww_ ”s when he was gone; amused looks were exchanged. Kira went to get the duck toy and brought it to Julian.

“Looks new,” she said, smiling as she handed it over.

Julian rolled the duck’s wheels over his belly, beaming, then handed the toy to Miles.

Miles grunted. “Bet you anything he replicated this today.”

“He had it custom made, in fact,” Garak said, and everyone turned his way, curious. “I’m not as good with woodwork as I am with a needle and thread, but I hope...” he looked at Julian, “it’s to your liking?”

Julian smiled widely, touching the little yellow duck. “You _made_ this?”

“If you’d be so kind as to not tell Quark I told you so, I’d be much obliged. He rather had me swear on my life to say nothing.”

Julian huffed at Garak. “And yet!”

Garak beamed. “My mistake. A mere slip of the tongue.” He inhaled quickly and added, “Now, on the subject of things I’ve made!” He turned back and dragged a cloth bag towards him across the rug and into his lap. “I’ve been kept somewhat busy by regular business, but dear Mrs. O’Brien has been frightfully limited by the replicator’s clothing selections for the baby, and I felt I had no _choice_ but to improve the poor infant’s lot.”

He lifted a teeny-tiny Starfleet onesie with science-officer teal across the shoulders and a silver delta embroidered on the breast. The crowd squealed, and Molly gasped aloud, hands over her mouth.

In a devastating blast of elation, Julian wailed, putting down his tea on the sofa arm and reaching for the onesie. He held it in his hands and sobbed over it. “Ih— It’s-s-s. So-hooo cuu-hu-huute. Garaaaaak.” He lifted it to his forehead and pressed it there. Then he let Keiko see, and watched her hold it up while Leeta and Kira leaned close to coo over it.

Julian was still droning a note of overwhelm, hands over his eyes. He felt a warm hand on his knee, and peeked out to see Garak kneeling before him, one hand out to touch him. Garak’s concerned expression melted to gladness when he saw Julian smiling.

“Perhaps,” Garak said, sitting back and pulling out another onesie, “this will please Chief O’Brien?” He presented his audience with an identical newborn’s outfit, this one topped with engineering gold. More squealing. Then out came a botanist’s grey jumpsuit to appease Keiko, complete with a pocket embroidered to look like there was a leafy plant inside.

“Garak, you shouldn’t have,” Keiko said, clearly too pleased to even _think_ about rejecting the gift.

“Oh,” Garak said amicably, eyes on Julian, “it was nothing but a pleasure.”

Julian hummed a happy sound, rubbing his belly and knowing the baby inside was as gleeful as he was.

This wasn’t the first time Garak had shown up bearing gifts. He seemed to have been over here every two or three days since Julian found himself unexpectedly pregnant, and he always came with food, some mind-bending puzzle for Julian to do, a book he might like, or a selection of soft fabrics so Julian could have some say in the sensory preferences of his ever-growing collection of pregnancy clothes.

Besides today, Garak had never, not once, been invited. Yet ten or fifteen times he’d been in the room when nobody else was home, leaving new clothes on Julian’s bed or dinner on the table, but the O’Briens hadn’t said a bad word about this repeated home invasion because it was clear to everyone that he was a help, not a hindrance. For Julian especially.

Now that Garak’s bag of gifts had been emptied and thoroughly appreciated, conversation wandered again.

While Jadzia shared her tea with Piggy and the targ’s colourful friends, Molly recited everything she’d learned about the Bajoran solar system, and everyone listened in. Kira nodded along; her nose ridges crinkled in a grin whenever Molly looked at her to check she was right.

Distracted from the recitation, Leeta leaned back behind Keiko, reaching out a long arm to touch Julian’s hair.

Julian looked over at her, shutting his eyes and leaning into the touch as she petted him. He craved more touches like that – even the briefest affection drove him wild inside.

“You need a haircut,” Leeta whispered.

Julian peeked at her. “Hm,” he muttered. “Would you do it?”

Leeta gave him a pitying look. “You know I always mess up.”

Julian pouted. “But I like when you play with my hair.”

Leeta stroked black fluff out of his face, fingers splitting the thicker locks just past his temples. “If you wanted me to play with your hair, Julian, you shouldn’t have broken up with me, don’t you think?” Leeta always wore the seductive smirk of a dabo girl, yet now that smirk seemed tempered with concern.

“You’re playing with my hair now,” Julian teased.

Leeta hummed and stopped touching him. “Come see me when the baby’s out of you. That was what you wanted, right? I’ll cut your hair then.”

Julian nodded. He sighed. “I miss you,” he whispered.

Leeta gave him a tender look. But she didn’t reply, and the lack of a returned sentiment rang coldly in Julian’s mind as Leeta turned back to Molly and applauded with everyone else. Julian clapped a few times, putting on a smile.

The buzzing discomfort that lingered after that interaction eventually got lost among renewed smiles and little laughs as Jadzia passed around the breastfeeding accessories she’d ‘had on hand’ and now offered to Keiko.

Kira sat on Miles’ footstool, since Miles had gotten up to walk around and stretch his legs. Open on Kira’s lap was a men’s fashion and lifestyle magazine made of real paper, the likes of which she’d never seen before.

Julian had gone through that issue a dozen times since Garak had mysteriously sourced it from some unknown time and place. Well, not so unknown: it was a 1963 original _Gentleman’s Quarterly_. Mint condition, nary a ‘four centuries old’ smell or yellowing page about it. Julian still liked to flip through it sometimes, imagining himself in dapper suits and trilby hats. The mental image was somewhat confused by the realisation that he was a bit too pregnant to fit into a pointedly masculine slim-fit suit, but he had something to look forward to, at least. He just worried about his hips after all this. Who knew what he’d look like in two months, or two years? He might end up... curvy. Granted, his hips had barely widened at all, but there was still time.

He dragged his thoughts back to the present, desperate to enjoy the moment. His smile started to hurt.

Gradually, as another hour or two went by, it got easier. He made three trips to the bathroom during that time, once accompanied by Keiko. Each time he returned, he found himself relieved that his friends were still here, still chatting away.

Their presence smoked the room with an intoxicating heat, leaving Julian dozy and content. There was a certain softness to evenings like these, comfort amongst that low rumble of familiar voices with the occasional brightness of a laugh lifting from the hubbub.

He was safe and loved here.

They all were.

Julian was just in the middle of picking out swaddling fabrics with Jadzia when he gasped and curled his legs tight, suddenly uncomfortable.

“What?” Jadzia asked.

Julian gave her a disgraced look.

Jadzia’s lips parted. “Bathroom again?”

Julian glanced to make sure nobody else had noticed, then nodded. Jadzia helped him up, and they went slowly to the bathroom door around the corner.

“I’ll get you some fresh pants?” Jadzia asked.

Julian grunted from inside the bathroom. “Please.”

He emerged a minute later to find Jadzia waiting, folded trousers and fresh underwear balanced on a hand. She smiled. “Been there, done that,” she remarked. “Those little uterus pirates sure love to use bladders as punching bags, don’t they?”

With a sheepish yet grateful smile, Julian took the change of clothes and freshened up in private.

Once out, Jadzia took his arm and accompanied him back to the sofa, smiling all the way.

But Julian got to the couch and realised in dismay that people were getting up and stretching, talking like they were about to leave.

“You’re not taking off already, are you?” Julian asked Kira. “Leeta, stay for another drink— Garak— It’s not _that_ late, surely. Barely even twenty-two-hundred!”

“Sorry, Julian,” Kira said. “Molly’s about to drop off, and Keiko’s been shooting me warning looks for a good twenty minutes.”

Keiko smiled at Kira, eyes narrowed. “Twenty-five.”

Kira laughed and patted Keiko’s back. “Alright. We’ll get out of your hair.”

Julian turned desperately to Jadzia. “You don’t _all_ have to go. Jadzia, didn’t you have some... research? that you needed to discuss with me?”

“Nothing that can’t wait until we’re on duty tomorrow,” Jadzia said. She leaned to peck Julian on the cheek, but by the time Julian reached for her she was already turning away. “Thanks for the tea party, Molly! Piggy was a great host. We all had a _really_ fun time.”

Molly nuzzled sleepily against Keiko’s hip, hardly acknowledging Jadzia at all. Kira chuckled and squeezed Jadzia’s arm, then cocked her head to indicate they were off.

“See you, Chief,” Kira said to Miles, saluting with two fingers.

Miles grunted, smiled, and gave her an up-nod.

Julian clutched the wooden duck toy and the trio of onesies to his chest. “We haven’t said a proper thank-you to Garak yet,” he said firmly. “Garak, stay for a minute, won’t you?”

Garak gave a solemn look back. “I’m afraid it’s getting rather close to my bedtime, doctor. But there’s no need, in any case; your gratitude is well-noted.”

Julian swallowed. His smile grew strained as Keiko and Kira hugged and final goodnight-and-thank-yous were repeated a few times as everyone inched closer to the doors.

Julian dumped all the gifts on the sofa and padded up towards the crowd. He reached out his arms for a hug from Leeta, but she barely pressed to him for a second before crouching to speak to Molly. Miles touched Julian’s lower back, and Julian leaned into the contact, looking at Miles with floods of gratitude, only to realise Miles wasn’t even looking at him and had basically touched him by accident.

Julian looked jealously at the toy targ, who was so snug in Molly’s arms that his eyes bulged out.

Holding back bitter tears, Julian left the departing crowd and went to shut himself in his room. He crawled into bed, heavy belly hanging down, then flopped onto his back with a huff.

He glared at the ceiling, arms folded over his chest.

“How dare I,” he said coldly. He thrust his right cheek to the bed, looking over at Kukalaka, who was the only person who shared his bed these days. Julian took his teddy bear and cuddled him, exhaling into his brown fur. “How dare I, Kukalaka. How dare I be so ungrateful.” 

He snuffled, fighting back the surge of emotion that punched up to his throat.

He lost. Hot tears fell down towards his ears.

“They’re all here; they came to see me, and they _always_ give me everything I need. What more _could_ I possibly want? What _don’t_ I have? Why aren’t I happy? Why?” He lifted his bear and shook him as if he’d provide answers under duress. “What’s _wrong_ with me?”

Julian wept in silence now, dragging his blanket to wrap over his body as he rolled to face the far wall. Molly’s afternoon playtime had left a mess of molecular structures on the carpet, and the wall-hidden computer monitor was still on standby from her research. Julian sighed slowly, nudging his nose deep into Kukalaka’s softness.

“I’m not alone,” he whispered through his tears. “So why the _hell_ am I lonely?”

  
★  



	2. Long Hug

Julian wandered back and forth in slow steps between the research panel and an empty patient bed. His downcast eyes scanned the padd in one hand, keeping the other hand crammed in the small of his aching back. He couldn’t sit down too long or random limbs started to feel prickly, and there were few things worse than feeling like his left foot was suddenly on the offence and inflicting friendly fire upon the rest of his body. So, a couple of times an hour, he paced.

He’d just stopped by the bed and rested his buttocks against it when a dark movement caught his eye. He looked up, and his entire body practically rose in rapture as he saw Garak hurrying up towards him.

“Garak!” Julian exclaimed with unsubtle delight. “Is it lunchtime already? I _am_ a bit famished, shall we go now?”

“I’m very sorry, doctor, but I’m afraid I can’t make it to lunch today,” Garak said gently, his blue gaze soft with regrets. “Chief O’Brien and I have been called away for an urgent mission in Cardassian space.”

“Urgent—” Julian put his padd down behind him, his expression pinched taut in concern. “You and Miles? What the hell for?”

“I’ve been told it’s a secret mission,” Garak said, “but I’m sure it’s not too dangerous if I told _you_ there’s a Bajoran ship in jeopardy with a broken translator and no way to communicate with the Cardassians who’ve caught them in their net.”

“So they need a translator and an engineer. I didn’t know you spoke any Bajoran.”

“Oh, only six dialects, hardly enough to note,” Garak said dismissively. He still looked apologetic. “Forgive me for my rush, doctor, but I must be on my way; it’s imperative that the Chief and I depart as soon as possible.”

“I’m coming too,” Julian said, waving to Nurse Jabara and indicating he was on his way out with a set of hand signals. “Docking Ring, yes? Let’s go.”

He strutted out of the Infirmary and off down the Promenade. Garak hurried after him.

“Doctor,” Garak said, “as well-thought-out as I’m sure your offer is, Captain Sisko did not request a doctor for this task, and my apologies for saying so—” Garak really had to hurry now, as Julian moved fast when he was on a mission, “but you’re hardly in any condition to—”

“Docking Ring,” Julian said to the turbolift. Garak hopped in with him just as the doors closed.

“Doctor,” Garak panted, one hand on his chest. He looked at Julian, affronted. “We’ll be headed into Cardassian space, and need I _remind_ you—”

“You don’t need to _remind_ me about anything, Garak; I’m fully aware of my ‘condition’.” Julian stood firm, hands in fists by his sides, watching DS9’s inner workings rush past the exposed turbolift exit. “I’m not letting my two best friends go into battle without a doctor.”

Garak went quiet for a bit. “Best... friends?” he repeated.

Julian snuck a disgruntled look Garak’s way. Then he glared back at the rushing wall, not in the mood to wonder why Garak was _surprised_ by the fact Julian actually liked him.

“Suffice to say, doctor, we’re not going into battle,” Garak said. “This is, as you’d put it, a ‘Humanitarian’ mission. Trust me, my dear, you would serve us all far better by remaining here and keeping yourself safe.”

Julian snapped, “But if anything happened to you—!”

“If anything happened to _you_ ,” Garak interrupted, silencing Julian. He finished, softly, “I would be most upset.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure you would be, if you were even still alive to know.”

“I suspect I would keep myself updated on your wellbeing, doctor, even posthumously,” Garak said slyly. He reached to pat Julian’s shoulder, but held on for only three seconds because the doors opened to the Docking Ring and he stepped out and away.

Julian, stunned by the simultaneous nonsense and affection in Garak’s declaration, took a deep breath, then followed his friend towards the first airlock. Miles was already there with Keiko, holding her hands, speaking to her softly.

“We’ll be back in a few days,” Miles said, which made Julian’s heart plunge to his feet. “Don’t worry too much.” Miles leaned in to kiss his wife, and she tugged him into a tight embrace.

Julian stood by the steps leading to the airlock, sulking. As CMO, Julian had the power to invite himself on the mission. He could tell Sisko he had suspicions it could be more dangerous than anyone thought. Easy.

But something about the pleading way Garak looked at him made him stand down. In the back of his mind Julian knew he’d only endanger all three of them with his higher needs. He wasn’t the rakish, energetic antelope he was five months ago. This wasn’t a mission for an eight-month-pregnant man, as much as it depressed him to know it.

“Look after this one, won’t you?” Miles said to Keiko, cocking his head towards Julian. When she laughed yes, he hugged her again.

Julian sighed, chin sinking to his chest. Once he looked up, he stepped up to Miles and took him into a hug too, eyes tight shut on his friend’s shoulder. They both squeezed.

Miles held himself carefully against Julian’s front so he didn’t press the bump too much.

Julian felt his heart breaking, and he really wished it would stop. What if his closest friends were gone longer than they said they’d be? What if they never came back? What if Julian had to raise this baby with Keiko, without Garak and Miles to help?

Miles moved to depart, and Julian had to drop back from the hug. One pat fell to Julian’s shoulder, and then he was alone again.

Garak hesitated at the cog-wheel opening, one hand on his bag, and one foot in the airlock with the other on the step. He opened his mouth like he had something to say, but swallowed it down and turned—

“Wait.” Julian rushed a step closer to him, opening his arms and offering a shy smile. “Miles got a hug. Wouldn’t want you missing out.”

They’d never hugged before.

Garak’s expression seemed to melt into pure affection, and he stepped down to be level with Julian. He opened his hands around Julian’s waist, slid them all the way to his lower back, and pressed _right_ where it hurt. Ohh, he was warm and solid and _thick_ in their embrace.

Julian hooked his chin over Garak’s shoulder ridges, eyes shutting as he breathed out.

Garak stayed there, completely relaxed in Julian’s touch.

Julian drew in a deep, slow breath, feeling himself sparkle bright with endorphins, rushing from his spine to his shoulders then down through his belly, making the baby kick, making his chest tighten in a most pleasing way.

A huge sigh of relief fell out of Julian, accompanied by a hum.

Garak lifted one hand and cupped the back of Julian’s head. Julian expected him to pull away, but Garak’s head only leaned onto Julian’s, and Julian turned his face to rest his nose on Garak’s hot neck ridges.

For a good thirty seconds, Garak just... held him.

And Julian started to cry.

He stayed silent, begging himself not to sob aloud despite the pressure inside him. He buried his face into Garak’s collar, smelling the petrichor soap he’d used and the cottonesque scent of his clothes. Julian’s hands clung to Garak’s wide-set arms, gripping him close, stroking with both thumbs.

He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want this to ever end. He’d needed this touch more than he’d ever realised.

“Julian,” came Miles’ soft voice after nearly a whole minute. “We need to leave.”

Julian squeezed one more time and dropped back, hurriedly wiping away his tears. Garak’s smile shattered to astonishment when he saw the raw emotion the hug had drawn out of Julian.

With tenderness in his eyes and grey lips parted, Garak reached up and wiped Julian’s last tear with the pad of his thumb.

Julian managed a wobbly smile.

“We’ll be home soon, doctor,” Garak assured him. “And we will try our very best not to die.”

“At least drop by and let me know if you _do_ die,” Julian smiled, knowing Miles and Keiko wouldn’t get the reference. Garak beamed.

“I swear an oath to do so,” Garak said. He patted Julian’s cheek, then turned to leave, letting his eyes linger on Julian as he went.

Miles waved at his wife, then Julian – and the airlock door rolled in behind them, sealing off the shuttle.

Julian plopped backwards off the steps, retreating to stand beside Keiko. She touched his arm.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she told him.

Julian glanced at her, starting to smile. “Oh, I know,” he said lightly. He looked back at the airlock, and let go of a gradual exhale.

From the moment Garak had taken him in his arms, Julian had known.

  
★  


“And the witch came down from her tower, catching the man in the act! _Here you are, stealing my cabbages again,_ she cackled.” Keiko glanced at Julian’s belly like it contained a schoolroom full of children. After checking her baby was paying attention, she went back to reading.

“The man begged, _Please! My wife is sick and these cabbages are all that she craves!_

“The witch cackled – _eheheheheheeee_! – and she promised to help his wife. _Tell me, thief, do you have any children?_

“The man said no; he and his wife had wished for children for a long time but they were surely barren. And do you knooowww what the witch said?”

Flatly, Julian said, “She said, _Promise me your first-born child, and you may have my cabbages._ ”

“Yes, she did. And the man promised her anything – because, foolishly, he didn’t believe they’d ever have children. But he took his cabbages, and fed his wife every last one... and sure enough... his wife soon became pregnant! And the very same day as the baby was born, the witch came to _steal the baby away_!”

Julian had heard Miles tell this story a dozen times by now, and Keiko didn’t do the voices right. Okay, she did _voices_ , but her witch was too forthright and her cabbage-stealing husband was too posh, and – actually, no, it wasn’t as bad as all that, but Julian felt Miles’ absence so acutely that it physically hurt.

Julian sighed.

Keiko noticed his dismay and glanced up. “Something the matter?”

Julian rocked his head. “Hm. No...” He frowned, then admitted, “I just miss Miles and Garak, that’s all.”

“Oh, honey, me too,” Keiko said. “Hey, why don’t we look at those little clothes Garak made again – that would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Julian resented being distracted like a child, but regardless, he cheered up the moment Keiko put the onesies in his hands. They were made of soft, fleecy jersey, not the same wool gabardine the real uniforms were made of, but that just made them a hundred times cuter. They were warm and nice to touch.

He held the turquoise-shouldered one to his chest and cuddled it there, imagining a newborn baby squirming inside it. Surely the outfit was too big. Then he looked at the size of his belly and thought... surely it was too small? Babies were tiny; he knew they were. He’d held newborns that seemed so small he might just lose them somewhere in the Infirmary if he dared put them down. But he’d have to push an actual Human being out of his actual vagina in three weeks, and that was a horrifying prospect. He definitely wasn’t big enough for something the size of this onesie.

Julian rested a hand on his bump and stroked, trying to remember that Humans had been pushing babies out of themselves for as long as the species had existed. Just because he was built a little differently than most child-bearing folks didn’t mean he couldn’t do it. As a doctor he had assisted with multiple births to gender-diverse parents, and they’d all been a success. He _knew_ he had no reason to worry.

But, the fact remained that there was a Thing inside him. The Thing was very soon going to be _out_ side him and conscious and screaming... and it wasn’t his.

It wasn’t _his_ baby.

He was the mixing bowl – not the ingredients nor the serving plate. Once the baby was out of him, he’d be washed and put away. He’d be... _Uncle_ Julian.

He looked at his favourite little onesie and wondered why the hell Garak made it. The little engineering uniform and the botanist’s jumpsuit made sense, but this? What even _possessed_ the dear tailor to think it was okay to give Julian this kind of false hope?

Keiko put a hand on Julian’s arm – he startled.

She looked at him with such _care_ in her dark eyes. “What’s going on in there?” she asked softly. “You look so lost.”

Julian shook his head. “I’m fine, Keiko. It’s nothing.”

“Yeah...?” Keiko took his hand closer and held it on her lap. “In that case, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what’s up with you, and then I’ll decide if it’s nothing. Because the look on your face says it’s something. A _big_ ol’ something.”

Julian swallowed. He scowled as he lifted and dropped a shoulder. “I don’t know, do I? I’m just worried about Miles and Garak. Haven’t heard from them in two days.”

“What about the onesie?”

“What?”

“The one that’s like your uniform. You keep looking at it like you’re about to cry.”

Julian huffed and looked away. “Just a bit... I don’t know. Dissociated, I suppose. Nothing makes sense. Nothing feels real. The baby... is real. I can feel it... here.” He set Keiko’s hand on his middle. “But up here—?” He let a hand drift vaguely past his ear.

He shook his head, staring at the floor. “Whenever Miles was sitting here with me, I could kind of imagine how things might be. Could see a... a situation, I suppose, where we raised the baby... together?” He glanced unsurely at Keiko, found her expression unreadable, and looked down again. “It’s silly, I’m sorry.”

“What? That’s not silly.” Keiko leaned closer. “Julian, this is your baby too.”

“No! It’s _not_ my baby. I know that. But trying to remind myself of that causes—” His breath caught and shuddered as despair snared him. 

“I feel so disconnected,” he whispered. “From _this_ —” he gestured at himself, “from _you_ , from everything. You and Miles have been nothing but kind to me, and I feel like I’m missing something, like I’m missing the _point_ , somehow, like I’m missing the joke. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t know. It— I just—” He palmed his face, sniffing to clear his head. “Miles _helps_. When he’s here, he grounds me, you know? Reminds me it’s all real, and it’s all fine; he makes this madness seem like it’s all _normal_. And Garak... He shows up and everything’s just – _easier_. He has such a handle on everything, it seems like. He’s a step ahead of my needs every damn day. And I know you’re here, I _know_ you’re as competent and more straightforward the two of them put together—” (Keiko smiled) “—but right now, neither of the fathers of my baby are here, and I’m—”

Julian halted before he’d planned the end of his own sentence.

Wide-eyed, he looked at Keiko. For some reason, she was smiling. Well, anyone would be, hearing that ridiculous inaccuracy spoken aloud.

“Sorry,” Julian whispered. He turned his watering eyes away, mortified by what had come out of his mouth. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Keiko asked.

“He’s your husband,” Julian said, glancing towards Keiko, eyes set down. “Not...” He exhaled. “Not mine. And my _God_ , neither me nor Garak are the father either, so _what_ kind of fever dream I’m living in, I couldn’t tell you.”

“Julian.” Keiko’s hand touched his arm gently, squeezing. “Listen... It’s okay.”

“What? How can you even say that?!”

“The dysphoria and dissociation you’re feeling makes sense after everything you went through; everything you’re _going_ through to keep this baby alive and healthy. You operated on yourself! And suddenly, you were three months pregnant, when you never planned on being pregnant at all. Deciding to carry the baby to term was just about the bravest thing anyone’s ever done, I think. It’s up there, anyway. It can’t be easy – I _know_ it’s not easy – doing so much for people you love, so intensely, for so long. Believe me, Miles and I still haven’t figured out how we’ll _ever_ make it up to you. We owe you _more_ than our lives.”

“Oh... no... Keiko, no—” Julian shook his head, but Keiko held his hand tighter, and he went quiet.

Keiko went on, “And what you said about Miles and Garak— All of that’s all right, too, Julian.” She sounded confused that he didn’t know it already. “It’s fine to think of them like that. Like the fathers of your baby. Perfectly logical, right? This isn’t exactly a typical pregnancy, or a typical family.” She tilted her head when Julian rolled his eyes and looked away. “Hey-hey... Are you okay? Look at me?”

Julian met her eyes, scared to see a hidden shade of anger or resentment – he had feelings for her husband! he’d stolen her baby! and he wasn’t even enjoying it! – but was surprised to find none. Maybe he wasn’t looking hard enough.

“Miles _loves_ you,” Keiko said. “And not just for what you’re doing for us. I didn’t realise you were so afraid to love him back. The affection between you always seemed so natural. If that’s you holding back... well, lucky Miles, huh? You must _really_ love him.”

Julian was utterly dumbfounded. He pinched his thigh to check if he was dreaming, but still couldn’t tell, because sometimes dreams hurt, too.

“Julian.” Keiko met his eyes again. She let out a soft breath, smiling as she said, “You’re our baby’s father, too. Okay? He’s gonna be one well-loved baby; I’ll tell you that much. Three parents.” She glanced aside, then smiled and looked back. “Four if you count Garak. I guess we are, now. I’ll have to break it to Miles gently.”

Julian hung his head, blushing. “Ugh, don’t tell Miles. I really don’t know why I said that.”

“Well, I do.” Keiko cupped his chin and lifted his face so they could look at each other. “We’re family. All of us.” She lowered her hand to Julian’s belly, then took his hand and held it there too. “Do you feel that? My hand, your hand?”

Julian nodded.

“You’re not disconnected; you’re _connected_ ,” Keiko said. “This is your body, and it belongs to you. So the baby inside you _is_ yours, as much as it is _all_ of ours. We’re all family.” She split their fingers between each other, locking on while he watched. “We’re interlinked, Julian. Do you understand? We’re connected.”

Julian slowly started to nod. He shook his head. Then nodded again.

It started to feel easier, having Keiko’s hand on him. He held it and suddenly felt as rooted to reality as he did with Miles, just for a flash of a moment. But after so long living half-dissociated, a flash was something huge, and the relief rushed upon his skin like cool rain.

He nodded once more, sure now, and Keiko smiled.

“I’m going to be a father?” Julian breathed.

Keiko laughed warmly, taking Julian’s hand and pressing the back of it to her cheek. “Yeah, you are. And you’re gonna be a great one.”

Julian settled back down, processing that for a while. A dazed smile crept its way onto his face as excitement snuck into his heart.

Eventually, Keiko patted his hand and picked up her padd to carry on reading. As she spoke, Julian’s mind wandered, lulled by the graceful tone of her voice.

It made sense that Julian would think of Miles as the father. Biologically, he was. Emotionally – sure, that too. But Garak...?

Julian didn’t know what had come over him when Garak’s name fell into the mix. Even if everything else began to make sense at last, Garak was the one thing that didn’t.

  
★  



	3. Emotional Support Bastard

Miles emerged from the airlock looking all haggard and slouchy, his bag slung from one shoulder. He straightened up and looked around the Docking Ring in search of his wife.

Julian slammed him a step back, throwing both arms around Miles’ head and hugging him breathless.

Elation danced through Julian’s entire body, and he laughed aloud, nuzzling into Miles’ greasy hair, then putting a single kiss on his neck. “Mwah.”

An involuntary breath filled Julian’s lungs as he saw Garak stepping from the shuttle, also carrying a bag, also tired and greasy. Julian whimpered and let his arms stray off Miles and open out to Garak, while Keiko kissed her husband at last.

Garak’s eye ridges rose, and his lips parted. He chuckled and dropped his bag with a _thunk_. He hurried into the airlock tunnel and wrapped his arms around Julian’s middle.

“Hmmmmmmmm,” Julian sighed, relaxing down into Garak’s supportive arms. “Hello.”

Garak exhaled with an audible smile. “Hello to you, too, doctor.”

Julian snuggled into Garak’s collar as he had done three days ago, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled different now, but the lack of petrichor and clean clothing made it obvious that the underlying scent was purely Garak. To Julian, he smelled like fragrant lentils left in the sun – or maybe half-cooked, steaming jasmine rice still bubbling in the pot. Warm, wholesome, and full of goodness. Julian hadn’t smelled such a thing since his childhood on Earth.

Garak was quite a bit softer in the middle than Julian’s other friends. Against a pregnant belly, Garak’s pressure was so incredibly _comforting_.

Like before, one of Garak’s hands took the back of Julian’s head, causing static to course down his spine. 

Julian moaned quietly, then burrowed his blushing face deeper into Garak’s shoulder ridges, glad that Garak only chuckled at the sound he’d made.

They breathed together for a while, starting to sway fondly, rocking from foot to foot.

And then, they stopped rocking, and just held on.

Knowing they really couldn’t hug forever, Julian’s breath came out shivery over his tongue as he finally pulled back. Garak now had a beautiful vitality in his eyes that hadn’t been there when he docked. Julian grinned, enjoying the sight.

“Come on, you two,” Keiko called from the airlock exit. “Other ships need to dock sometime this week.”

Julian shot Garak one more sheepish yet pleased glance, waited for him to collect his dropped bag, then led him out of the airlock tunnel and down the steps to DS9.

Tentatively, Julian said, “Keiko... Miles... Um?”

Keiko wore a comfortable smile, eyes moving from Miles to Julian. “What’s up, Julian?”

Julian opened then closed his mouth, then shrugged. “Would it be okay if we had Garak for dinner?”

Miles puffed out a derisive noise. “Looks a bit chewy to me.”

Julian burst out laughing, casting Garak an amused eye-roll. Garak chortled. “You know what I mean,” Julian chided, looking back at Miles. “Could he eat _with_ us?”

“Oh, of course,” Keiko said without hesitation.

“Eh, might as well,” Miles grumbled. “He’s been complaining about the shuttle’s replicator selection for three days straight and I—”

Garak supplied, “Chief O’Brien very _kindly_ offered to replicate me some manner of ‘full Irish breakfast’.”

Julian raised his eyebrows. “ _Very_ nice of you, Miles.”

Miles snorted. “Okay, what I actually said was I was going to replicate a full Irish breakfast and shove it so far up his—”

“Miles!” Keiko was aghast.

Garak gave his most polite smile. “I was intending to spare you your wife’s scorn, Mr. O’Brien. Although I do believe a decent sausage is never remiss, regardless of which bodily orifice it finds itself in.”

Julian wheezed a laugh behind his hands, feeling his face heating up.

Keiko sighed, catching Julian’s eyes when he parted his fingers. “Remind me again why we missed them so much?”

Julian toyed with a few playful answers, but his eyes settled on Miles and Garak, who were bickering over their bags getting caught together, and he just... smiled.

  
★  


It was impossible for Julian not to notice how his buoyant mood became physical – he bounced about even when sitting on the sofa with his legs stretched out longways. Miles and Garak had both cleaned up nicely, and dinner around the sofa with the five of them together felt _just right_ to Julian.

He didn’t need to process multiple conversations, since one person would talk and the others would all listen. Then, following encouragement, banter, laughter, or an uproar of disagreement – perhaps with a friendly argument and a democratic shutdown of whoever was most wrong – they’d move onto another topic.

“So, what did you do while we were gone, Molly?” Miles asked his daughter, who was separating her noodles from her soup and making a wet, tangled mountain up the side of her bowl.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Nothing!” Miles chuckled. “So you didn’t build a pillow fort over Julian’s bed or eat ‘rations’ in your fort because you’d crash-landed in the jungle...?”

Molly grinned. “Oh, yeah, we did that.”

Julian laughed, head back and hands on his middle. “The fort’s still up, anyone want to go look?”

Keiko patted him down when he started to get up. “Finish your dinner first, Julian. You can show them the fort after.”

“Rescue has finally come, it seems,” Garak said sneakily to Molly, leaning forward off the sofa to meet her at her level. “Being trapped in the jungle all this time can’t have been easy.”

“We found water first; that’s most important,” Keiko said knowingly.

“And we dug up gummy-worm grubs!" Molly chirped, “And we needed shelter from the storms so we... we built a fort.”

Julian hummed, smiling as he chewed a piece of tofu. “Molly, do you think your daddy and Mr. Garak could help us get off this planet? Their shuttle landed just today, and they have medical supplies on board—”

“Yes!” Molly sat up a bit more on the rug, almost slopping her soup overboard – Keiko rushed to right the bowl, smiling. “We have to check your baby is okay and then contact Starfleet and—” Molly was up and running, leaving her bowl behind.

Keiko sighed heavily and gave Julian a ‘ _now look what you did_ ’ stare. Julian chewed and grinned awkwardly, but perked up yet again when Molly came charging back in, holding Piggy.

Molly’s little voice was full of seriousness as she announced, “Our Chief Medical Officer was out hunting for worms and – and tripped over and—”

“Oh _cripes_ ,” Miles uttered. “Molly, quick, run the tricorder over him!”

Molly used a chopstick as a scanner. Julian bit his lip to keep from laughing, needing to curl a fist over his lips to hide a grin as Garak took his bowl away to save it from spilling.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Molly asked.

Julian shook his head. “But I am a bit lightheaded, Dr. Molly. Might need to eat more worms, but Mr. _Garak_ just stole my bowl.”

Garak said carefully, “Ah, but we wouldn’t want the _worms_ to get all over your favourite shirt, now, would we?”

“How do you know it’s my favourite?!”

“Is it not?”

“Well, it is, but how do you know?”

Molly announced, “You’re in tip-top condition.”

Julian gave a huge sigh of relief. “Gosh, I was worried. Might I have my worms back now, please?”

He waved a hand hopefully towards Garak, but Garak went “Ah—!” and eased the bowl out of his reach. “Only on the condition that you tuck in a napkin.”

Julian huffed. “You’re ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous. I don’t need a napkin.”

“Neither do you need a table, apparently,” Garak said curtly as Julian won back the bowl and balanced it on his bulging belly, digging around with his chopsticks to pluck up long trails of dripping noodles. “Please, doctor, if I can just—” Garak inched closer, pulling the folded napkin out his own collar. “Stay still, let me—”

“No— No— Don’t need a napkin—!” Julian shoved noodles in his mouth and wriggled away, moving his bowl and chin out of Garak’s reach. “I’m not a baby, Garak, I don’t need— Hey!”

“Tuck! It! In.” Garak tucked the napkin into Julian’s collar for him, and Julian glared. “I’m not having you burst into tears because you got a little spot of _soup_ on your shirt.”

“Burst into tears? Since when do I burst into tears?!”

The room was suddenly very quiet.

Julian looked around at his sheepish family, then at Garak. “I don’t cry that much, do I?”

Molly informed him, “At least twice a day, but we only see you when you’re at home, so you prob’b’bly cry more than that. Even _I_ don’t cry _that_ much.”

“Hardly your fault, doctor,” Garak said softly. “The hormones—”

“I’m not hormonal!”

“If you say so, doctor.”

“I’m not.”

Molly touched Julian’s forehead with her hand. “I concur with Uncle Garak.”

“ _Uncle_ Garak?” Miles puffed, while Garak hummed smugly, and Julian exclaimed, “I’m not hormonal! I’m not hormonal, stop looking at me like that, you horrible old lizard. And your napkin is itchy.”

Keiko touched Molly’s shoulder. “Sit down and finish your soup, love, okay? And let Uncle Julian eat his worms.”

“I’m going to eat my worms in the _shelter_ ,” Julian said. “Dr. Molly, I propose mutiny. This little sect can stay out here in the cold, and you and I are going to eat where it’s nice and safe, aren’t we, Molly?”

“Julian,” Keiko complained.

But Molly was already collecting her bowl and chopsticks, her expression as determined as a little soldier’s. Julian gave Keiko a quick grin, making her roll her eyes. He stuck out his tongue.

“Up we get,” Julian said, heeeeeaving himself to his feet. “Phew. Okay. And off – we – trot!”

They trotted slowly. More of an amble, really. Molly pulled Julian by the hand.

“Doctor...” Garak called after them, and Julian looked back. Garak smiled. “Dare I point out how little sense it makes that you’re taking up arms with the crewmember who agreed with me.”

“At least she’s cute,” Julian retorted.

“And I’m not?” Garak made an affronted noise. “Doctor! If I thought you were cruel before...”

Julian couldn’t help but laugh. “Look, if you want to change sides, you’re welcome to. Plenty of room in the fort for a decidedly un-cute Cardassian uncle.”

Garak grunted. He looked at Miles and Keiko and said, “Sorry to inform you of this, but I—”

“Oh, just go,” Keiko said, wafting a hand like Garak was a stale smell. Yet she smiled. “We’ll make a dessert delivery to the front line.”

Miles made a disgruntled sound. “We?” He looked at Keiko in dismay. “Hey, you’re on your own, lady. Julian, Molly, wait up.” He glugged back the last of his soup, handed Keiko the empty bowl, then chugged off after the others.

Julian got to his room, all lilac and dim, where the lights were cast down in stripes on the white-sheet fort, which was suspended over the ceiling grid and waterfalled to the floor like an abundance of mosquito nets. Fairy-lights had been woven between the sheets, giving them a magical glow. Between two makeshift curtains, Molly peeked through and checked for monsters, then opened up the entrance for Julian to shuffle himself in.

Julian stood for a moment, slurping more noodles into his mouth, whipped by the end of a cold one. He set his bowl beside Molly’s on the nightstand, then followed the girl’s guiding hands and crawled onto the bed to sit, chuckling as he went.

“We can contact Starfleet now,” Molly said, while Miles and Garak shoved each other side-to-side as they fought at the entrance, wanting to be next inside. “Daddy, press your badge.”

Miles, distracted by the draping around the bed, said, “Uh?” He then came to his senses and pretended to hit his combadge. “Uhh. O’Brien to theeee, uh, _Defiant_. We’re trapped on a, uh...”

“L-class planet,” Garak said.

Miles gave Garak a look. “L-class?”

“They said it was stormy, and there’s a jungle and an apparent lack of other life besides assorted gummy and noodle worms.”

Julian shrugged. “Not like it’s uninhabitable. We’d just rather be at home with our feet up and a good book, wouldn’t we, Molly?”

“Yah.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Garak said smoothly, sitting down beside Julian, dipping the bed. “Perhaps you’ve been right all these years, doctor, and my taste in literature _is_ lacking. There’s something rather invigorating about this kind of improvised storytelling.”

“Don’t tell me you never built a fort before.”

“Not for fun,” Garak said.

“Starfleet’s not responding,” Miles said in pretend worry, crouching by the bed and taking Molly’s hands. “You think we could stick this out? We might be stuck here for a few days.”

“That’s okay,” Molly said. “We have plenty to eat.”

Miles gave Garak a considering look. “Yeeeah, but I still think he’d be a little chewy.”

Only Julian laughed, flopping all the way back to lie on the bed, hands in his hair. He peeked open his eyes and knocked a knee playfully at Garak’s thigh. “He’s joking, Garak.”

“If you heard the things he said to me on our away mission, doctor, you wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Aww.” Julian propped himself up on his elbows, giving Miles a dark stare. “Now _look_ , Miles, you be nice to Garak.”

Miles chuckled. “Easier said than done. You’ve met the bastaaaah... _fellow_ , right?”

“I have.”

Garak tutted. “Doctor, I notice you fail to refute the claim that I am, in fact, a bastard.”

“I _said_ I’d met you, didn’t I?”

Molly’s little voice poked through the bickering. “What’s a bassurd?”

“Hey,” came Keiko’s voice from the door. Miles flicked up a sheet so they could all see her: she leaned on the door frame, arms folded, smiling affectionately. “Let’s give Molly a good example, you lot, how about that? Big happy family, please.”

Miles grumbled. “Didn’t adopt a lizard.”

“Yes, actually, we did.” Keiko gave her husband a pointed look. “He’s Julian’s...”

Miles looked at Julian, expecting a reasonable end to Keiko’s sentence. “He’s Julian’s _what_?”

Julian went blank for a moment. He looked at Garak for answers, only to see Garak looking even blanker.

Julian eventually had a fuzzy thought, and suggested, “Emotional... support... bastard?”

Garak wheezed a chuckle, head down and eyes crinkled. He looked over at Julian, eyes glistening, and Julian thought Garak was about to say something sweet – when he reached over and pulled the napkin out of Julian’s shirt collar.

  
★  


“Ohh, why does everyone always have to _leave_ ,” Julian lamented, following Garak to the door. “I know, I know, it’s ‘bedtime’. But who needs sleep? I don’t need sll... _aauhhh_...” He yawned. “Hrgh. Stop laughing. All of you.”

Miles clapped Julian on the back and left him at the door with Garak.

Julian sighed. “Well.” He shrugged. “Guess we’d better say goodnight. Thank you, by the way.”

“For the napkin, yes, you’re welcome.”

“Not _that_ ,” Julian grinned. “For hanging out this evening. It was... fun! And obviously for getting Miles back to the station in one piece, that too. As a footnote.”

Garak chuckled. “I’d hate to compliment him, truly – but I have to say, if he hadn’t pulled that rather illegal maneuver to take the shuttle and the Bajoran vessel _out_ of Cardassian space, I doubt either of us would’ve made it back. In pieces, perhaps. But nothing as whole and visually pleasing as what now stands before you.”

“Hhmm,” Julian said, teasingly. “It sounds like a compliment. Looks like a compliment. Moves a bit awkwardly but could under the circumstances be mistaken for a compliment.”

“Don’t tell him I said so.”

“MIIILES,” Julian called. “Garak said something nice about you.” He beamed across the room, glad to see Keiko laugh. Miles picked up a lost fork from the rug, then straightened, looking confused.

Garak harrumphed. “Traitor.”

“You didn’t make the mistake of _trusting_ me, did you?” Julian smiled. He touched Garak’s arm. “Garak, whatever’s become of you?”

Garak made a _face_. His eyes bulged with a flat smile and a slight head tilt, altogether saying something like ‘ _frankly I have no idea and I’ve given up at this point but in a joking sort of way_ ’.

Julian chuckled, head down. “Anyway. Sorry. You, um. You go home to bed.”

“Indeed.” Garak nodded and turned away.

“Garak?”

Garak hummed and peeked back over his shoulder. Julian tentatively opened his arms for a hug – and Garak beamed and turned back completely.

Once pressed into an embrace, Julian let go of a sigh of gladness. He rested his cheek on Garak’s shoulder ridges, a smile hidden by his tall tunic collar. Garak held Julian’s back, as he always did, and after about fifteen seconds, he shifted one hand to hold Julian’s head.

Julian moaned at the sheer bliss that caused.

“Again?” Garak remarked under his breath. “Is my hand truly that spectacular?”

“Hasn’t anyone ever touched your head and it’s the best thing ever?” Julian mumbled into the heat of Garak’s collarbone.

“I can’t say they have.”

“You poor, deprived soul.”

When Garak didn’t respond besides stroking Julian’s hair, Julian lifted his own right hand and set it behind Garak’s head, providing him some pressure. Garak grunted. His head dipped under the push, lowering down to touch Julian’s shoulder. Julian sparked with shock as he felt Garak’s nose on his skin.

“Good?” Julian whispered.

Garak nodded, and his nose stroked Julian’s exposed shoulder. A hot breath gushed out there, billowing down Julian’s top.

“How did you know, earlier?” Julian asked as the hug went on. “This _is_ my favourite top, how did you...?”

The undertone of Garak’s laugh was rumbly like an engine yet each chuckle was light like a hiccup; the vibration thrummed against Julian’s chest and belly.

“You’re more relaxed when you wear it,” Garak said simply. “You’re less irritable. You smile more.”

Julian pulled out of the hug in surprise, looking into Garak’s eyes. “I do?”

“A mere observation of mine.”

“Yooou’re paying too much attention.”

“I disagree.”

Garak let his hands slip away from Julian’s waist, yet kept a lock on his stunned gaze until the door opened – and then he left down the hallway, going home for the night.

Julian looked down at the protrusion before him, stroking the softened pink linen over his belly.

His smile felt... completely inevitable.

  
★  


Miles came to say goodnight to Julian before lights-out. Julian put away the book about Cardassian fashion which Garak had given him, then sat up.

“Need anything?” Miles asked, brushing the fort curtains open and stepping into the cosy, warmly-lit nook.

“Hm, just the usual,” Julian said, stuffing his pillow further down the bed and lying on it. He lay both feet on Miles’ lap as the other man sat down, then groaned a low note as Miles started to massage his toes.

While Miles worked, Julian said, “Glad you made it back safely.”

Miles mumbled, “Yeah, well. Kind of got your bastard buddy to thank for that.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Ahhh.” Miles kept massaging, moving from feet to ankles, but his eyes wandered. “He sort of piloted the ship back out of Cardassian space when I got knocked out.”

“Knocked ou— Miles! That wasn’t in your report.”

“Look, there was a lot of stuff we left out of the report,” Miles said. “If I added everything, I’d spend another three days writing.”

“So he saved your life.”

“Couple dozen people’s lives, yeah. And then refused to take credit.”

Julian beamed. “Not such a bastard.”

Miles seemed ready to dispute that, but then his shoulders sagged and he grumped, “He’s alright. Sometimes. And before you ask, yeah, I did already get checked for concussion. I’m fine.”

Julian smirked. “...Miles?”

“Hm.”

“While you were gone...” Julian shifted his legs so Miles had better access to his left calf. “I kind of said something by accident, but then Keiko and I talked about it, and—”

“Is this about the kiss?”

“What?”

“You kissed me. On my neck. When I arrived.”

“Oh. No. Well? Sort of. Not really.”

Miles waited.

Julian fiddled with his sleep shirt, watching his thumbs as he muttered, “I kind of called you the father of my baby.”

Miles’ hands stopped moving. He sounded like he’d stopped breathing, too. “Wh—” He huffed. “Y-You really...?”

Julian met his eyes, smiling helplessly. Miles started to chuckle, and Julian laughed too, rubbing at his burning forehead.

“Alright.” Miles patted Julian’s belly through his sleep shirt, then stroked. “Okay, you weirdo.”

“Miles...?” Julian sat up, swivelling to align more against Miles’ thigh, so they sat side-by-side, close enough that Julian could take Miles’ hand and hold it on his belly. “Miles, we’re—” His lips shook in a smile, voice cracking as he impressed, “We’re _having a baby together_.”

Just as it had for Julian, the knowledge hit Miles like it was a new thing – a thing he hadn’t quite understood completely until now. His eyes darted between Julian’s pregnancy and his eyes, back and forth. Then to his lips, then down again.

“I know,” Julian said understandingly. “When Keiko said it... it terrified me a bit – but my _God_ , Miles! It was the first time it really _registered_ that this baby isn’t just some... I don’t know, chore, or mission, something I welcomed out of obligation to my friends or crewmates, or just out of a doctor’s instincts to save lives, but...” he swallowed. “It’s something magical, something real. And it made me a part of your family. I’m not just some wannabe tagalong anymore. Ha-hah!” He tried to keep his tone light, but a shake made its way in as he added, “I’m scared, Miles. About everything that’s coming. But—” He leaned in, cradled Miles’ chin, and put a tiny kiss on the corner of his friend’s lips. “I’m _so_ excited, too. I want this. I want this for us, Miles. And I have _no_ regrets.”

Miles curled his hand tighter into Julian’s. His eye contact stayed steady. His smile was tentative and wonky, but genuine.

“You were always _family_ , Julian,” Miles said softly. “Always.” His palm touched Julian’s cheek, and held there. He stood up, sliding away. “Sleep well. Call if you need anything.”

Julian smiled when he was gone.

He lay down, relaxing with the arch of his back supported by his pillow. He gazed into the golden-lit fort above him, watching it drift a little in the breeze left behind from the door hissing shut.

“Computer, lights,” Julian said, and the room plunged to pitch-black.

Emotional warmth lingered in Julian’s heart as the minutes passed, and he replayed his interaction with Miles over and over, taking intense joy from seeing Miles’ more subtle joy.

But he remained aware that he’d only really given Miles half the story. He’d written up his own incomplete mission report, so to speak.

Yes, he’d called Miles the father of his baby. But he’d called Garak the same thing. He still didn’t know why he’d said such a thing. But it didn’t feel... wrong.

In fact, as he remembered the feeling of having his body surrounded by Garak’s touch, and relived the memories of him playing with Piggy on this very bed a few hours before, the idea that Garak was somehow an important part of this family started to feel very, very right.

Despite the bafflement that still churned around inside him, Julian went to sleep smiling for the first time in months.

  
★  



	4. Breakdown

“All I’m _saying_ , doctor, is that if you truly believe that democracy is to a government-led society what armour is to a soldier, then of course there are weaknesses! Slowed movement, for one. The weight of each footstep and the damage underfoot is mighty, indeed.”

Julian sucked down a mouthful of lukewarm decaf coffee in fuming distaste. Mug slammed to the Replimat table, he argued, “Sometimes it’s better to take things slowly and figure out what you need to _do_ before doing it. Alright, so some decisions take longer than others, and maybe some people get hurt in the meantime – maybe _approval ratings drop_ , God forbid – but ultimately the decisions can be made within a democracy of _choice_ that benefits all citizens, Garak, not just the ones at the top.”

“Maybe ‘some people get hurt in the meantime’.” Garak echoed Julian’s words with a sing-song breath. “Do you hear yourself? A Federation doctor, sitting here, before a Cardassian – in public! – eating betwixt the essential-worker Bolian and the family-man Bajoran, and he has the gall to say ‘maybe some people get hurt’. The swift decision of a single leader is the right decision, my friend. Every moment delayed can be a life lost.”

“Oh, says you, the one advocating for a government system that not only condones genocide, but _supports_ it.”

“I never said I was on board for the actions taken, doctor, merely the process by which the decisions are made.”

“So you admit genocide is a poor decision to make.”

“Of course!” Garak spread his hands. “What kind of monster do you take me for?”

“The kind who’d make a rash decision in the heat of the moment under the mistaken assumption that whatever you were doing was for the good of your people.”

“Perhaps you don’t know me too well, then.”

“Perhaps I know you better than you know yourself,” Julian retorted. He stabbed at his plate and speared up a dripping slice of purple beetroot. “ _Tell_ me you wouldn’t do just about _anything_ to protect your family.”

Garak scoffed and primly sank the prongs of his fork into what was left of his hasperat roll. “I have no family, doctor. And I no longer have a people to call my own. I have only myself to protect, and any sense of altruism you happen to see in me is quite completely rooted in selfishness, I assure you.”

“Only you would try and convince me you’re a heartless pig, Garak,” Julian said bitterly, scraping his knife on his plate and making it screech. “Luckily for you, you’re not _capable_ of telling the truth, so I _know_ you’re not _actually_ heartless.”

“Oh, I’ll let a few truths slip past here and there,” Garak smiled. “Just to keep you guessing. Else it’ll be far too easy for you to see _right_ through me.”

Julian didn’t feel like smiling. There was something cold and soggy lurking inside him, and he refused to meet Garak’s eyes. “Of course you have a family,” he said quietly, his tone full of cold fury. “Or maybe you really are too self-absorbed to have noticed.”

Garak went quiet. “I’m sorry?”

“Was that an apology?” Julian looked up in anger. “Or, no; let me guess, you’re ever-so-politely trying to insinuate that you have no idea, and never had any clue _what_ soever how loved you are.”

Garak blinked twice, leaning back from the table a bit. “Doctor, I’m not sure—”

“Oh, he’s _not_ sure.” Julian swept his hands out, gesturing at the people sitting at tables around them; some started to look their way. “He’s not sure! The incredibly intelligent, always-right, and ever-observant Garak _does not know_.”

Julian leaned forward, shoving his nearly-empty plate a few inches across the table. “What is it you don’t know, Garak? Whether anyone cares about you? Whether we’re _grateful_ when you do kind things? Whether anyone wishes you could be closer? Well! If you haven’t seen it, there must not be any evidence! None whatsoever! You must be right, then! You have no family! Nobody cares about you! We all hate you! Every— Eve-hh—” Julian got choked up and slammed a fist down on the table, making the cutlery rattle. But even with that much force expelled, he continued to choke on emotion, and simply sobbed, head down, hands open over his face as he began to cry.

He wept for a number of seconds, uninterrupted, burning from head to toe with embarrassment while a wildfire of tangled emotions _ached_ in his chest. His breaths scraped up his throat, shaken, and exhales came out in soft shivers. He couldn’t stop. Everything was too much. He hated Garak. Hated every fibre of him, each eyelash and each tricky little smile, because _how dare he_ not realise he was loved.

Julian’s hands were wet with tears, and his wrists were starting to tickle with the overflow when he felt a warm hand touch his arm.

Julian elbowed the hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“The thing about the napkins you despise so much,” Garak said gently, “is that they have many purposes. If I may...?”

Julian opened his blurry, dripping eyes and saw a pale blue cloth napkin offered across the table. Julian snatched the napkin and hid his face behind it, groaning.

Julian heard Garak’s clothes shift as if he was looking around. Julian prayed there wasn’t anyone looking at him, but knew there would be. Suspicions were confirmed when Garak said under his breath, “Might I suggest we make our way to your quarters?”

Julian sniffed and peeked over the napkin at Garak, who looked back gently with a soft and trustable smile.

“Come, doctor.” Garak stood and came to Julian’s side, craning down a bit to offer his elbow. “I’ll accompany you.”

Julian blew his nose wetly into the napkin, scrunched it up so the warm bit was hidden, and then pulled himself up on Garak’s arm, grunting and faltering twice as he steadied his weight. His belly seemed to have grown an inch in every direction since he started lunch.

They walked away from the Replimat, leaving behind their unfinished meal and untucked chairs, a wet napkin on one chair, and a hubbub of voices belonging to people who watched them go. Julian went sniffing, while trying not to sniff. There really was no saving grace in this situation; it was what it was.

Garak’s hand laid itself gently over Julian’s. “Into the turbolift we go.”

They stood together inside the lift, and Garak said, “Habitat Ring, level B.”

As soon as the lift began to whizz along, Julian tipped back his head and stared into the darkness between the overhead lights in the hope that his tears would drain away.

Garak was staring at him.

“What,” Julian demanded, scowling, not looking at Garak.

Garak was smirking a bit when Julian gave in and glanced over.

“ _What_ ,” Julian said again.

“I do believe Dr. Molly was right after all, no?”

Julian couldn’t help but splutter out a laugh, and looked away in annoyance. “Yes, well, hormonal fluctuations are normal. _You_ , however— You don’t need to act so clueless, Garak. I don’t care how independent your persona is supposed to be; it’s not a crime to forge mutual emotional bonds! Rejection... God, it really hurts.” He shot Garak an irritated look. “I would’ve been just as upset even if I _wasn’t_ a fortnight away from my due date. I just would’ve sulked silently.”

Garak watched him for a little longer, then faced the front of the lift. “What kind of tea would you like?”

“Hm?” Julian blinked a few times. “Oh. Peppermint.”

“Peppermint it is. Aha!” The lift opened out to the Habitat Ring, and Garak led Julian out, one hand behind his back. They walked at a moderate pace, and finally came to the O’Brien family’s doors. Julian entered, and Garak followed.

“Lights,” Julian said, and then flinched when they were bright. “Forty percent brightness.”

In the dimmer and perhaps more intimate light, he left Garak and made his way to the pink sofa, which was covered with a thick, teal-coloured knit blanket. Julian lifted the blanket and sat under it in the middle of the sofa, exhaling as he flumped back into the cushions.

Garak came to him with a mug of peppermint tea in his hands, and Julian took it gratefully. He cocked his head to the side, inviting Garak to sit next to him.

Garak perched on the edge of the sofa as if ready to get up at any moment.

“Just get yourself a damn drink, Garak,” Julian grumbled.

Garak obediently went to replicate himself some red leaf tea. When he sat this time, he sat all the way back, sleek black trousers clinging to his knee only inches from Julian’s. Garak took a sip of his tea, then sighed with his mouth open.

They sipped in silence for a while.

Julian noticed Garak occasionally sneaking looks his way, but the curious reptile said nothing at all, so Julian just waited until he was ready.

“Doctor—” Garak hesitated, head down, looking into his tea. “Julian.”

Julian glanced over, surprised to be addressed by his first name. Garak had never even pronounced it except when referring to Julian indirectly or in sarcastic jest.

Garak gulped and looked at Julian with a brazen vulnerability, eyes soft and mouth relaxed. “Julian... is everything all right?”

Julian lowered his tea to his lap, wholly taken aback by how strange that sentence was to hear. Garak had queried Julian’s wellbeing so many times over the years, but the question had never been asked with so much... so much _something_. Julian’s brain wanted to call it tenderness, but surely that was too soft a word for Elim Garak.

Julian opened his mouth, unsure how to answer. Yes, everything was fine. Nobody was in immediate danger. Things were as normal and manageable as they could be under the circumstances.

But the moment Julian tried to say those things, all that came out was a breathy shudder. His bones buckled, and he began to sob over his tea, hands shaking, eyes welling up, heart and soul overtaken by a scream of _no, it’s not all right! it was never all right! nothing is okay! help me help me help me please_ —

Garak hurried to put his tea on the floor, then removed Julian’s own. As he sat up again, he was close enough that Julian swayed into his heat and pressed his face there, hiding his tears in Garak’s tunic, fingernails scratching blunt into thick, patterned fabric.

Garak’s breath hitched twice, an uncertain hand landing on Julian’s shoulders. Julian’s skin bristled with relief and pain, and he wailed, surging closer on the sofa so he could lie on Garak’s chest, which shoved Garak back to the cushions behind him.

Realising this wasn’t going to be a comfortable position, Garak pushed Julian back a bit and held him away with one hand, while his other hand hurriedly rearranged cushions so he’d have proper back support. Then he opened his arms to Julian, and helped him shift closer, bumping all the way up the sofa until he could sprawl between Garak’s open legs. Julian lay his cheek on Garak’s shoulder ridges, hand on his beating heart. The weight of Julian’s pregnant belly rested upon Garak’s thigh.

Once comfortable, Julian wept as loud as he needed to, sounds of despair flying from his raw throat and dribbling agony from his eyes. Garak wrapped both arms around Julian’s head and rocked him, a low hushing sound escaping his lips.

“N-no,” Julian sobbed between sodden breaths. “No.” He shook his head.

“No, everything’s... bad?” Garak surmised. “Or are you casting a vote against the rocking?”

“The rocking’s _fine_. I mean no: it’s not all right! Th-th-this is th-the h-h-hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” Julian sniffed hard, feeling cool liquid snot hit the back of his throat and trickle down his gullet. He swallowed, frantically wiping his stinging eyes with his thumbs.

“I want it,” he added, before rethinking that and pouring out honesty, “but I don’t, I don’t want this, I don’t want this; I hate it; I can’t think about what I have to do next without panicking. I want all of it to _stop_ , but I can’t _do_ that – I can’t do that to Miles or Keiko or Molly or the _baby_ , Garak. It’s months too late to back out.

“No, not even that— It was too late the moment the shuttle got damaged and Keiko slammed into the bulkhead. She was going to _die_ , and the baby was going right after, and there was nobody else there— I never planned on using my body like this, Garak, never. Never-ever. It just terrified me. Accidentally becoming a parent was always one of my greatest fears. But in that moment, I had no choice.” He looked up into Garak’s eyes as his own poured with tears, a shaking grimace pulling at his lips. “I thought that would be the hardest thing I’d _ever_ do, making that decision. Cutting myself open on the shuttle’s transporter pad. Transporting the baby and the placenta from Keiko’s womb to mine. Sewing myself back up. Cauterising Keiko’s internal wounds so she wouldn’t bleed out. I thought the worst was over. But every day since has be-hh—”

He sniffed wetly into Garak’s collar, soothed by a stroking hand on his head.

“I could’ve killed four people! Do you know how— how _fucking terrifying_ that was? No, no you don’t, nobody does but me! I could’ve—”

“Four?” Garak asked.

Julian explained, voice quaking: “Keiko. The baby. Myself. And, if he lost the rest of us, Miles. And what would happen to Molly, then? Four people could’ve died and another child’s life would be ruined if I didn’t pull that transference off perfectly.”

“But you did,” Garak said. “My dear, you were exemplary.”

“But don’t you see, I had no _choice_. Of course I was exemplary; I was incapable of being anything else. One slip of the exoscalpel or an untimely wave of dizziness would’ve been murder-suicide. That haunts me. It does.

“And I suppose it’s wonderful, you know, partly,” Julian managed with a trembling smile. “I’m going to have my best friend’s baby. That. That makes me happy. Excited. Just that fact alone. That’s wonderful. But.”

Needing more reassurance, his hand fumbled for Garak’s, and gripped it to hold. Garak turned his hand, splitting his fingers between Julian’s and pressing their palms together. Julian stroked Garak’s thumb with his own.

“I haven’t even _mentioned_ what happened when we came back to the s-station a-h-after-w-wards,” Julian sniffled, trembling; he was immediately comforted when Garak squeezed his body closer. “People didn’t... know about me. They just saw me as a man, and I was comfortable like that, you know? Sisko knew, since he had it on file, and I told Miles last year. Everyone I slept with obviously knew, but they kept it to themselves. Half the people on DS9 didn’t think _anything_ of me showing up pregnant – what’s a gender binary, these days, anyway? Quark—” Julian actually laughed, which was a tiny respite from the ache. “Quark didn’t even realise for six weeks that Human men don’t usually get pregnant. He acted like it was another strange little Huu-maan thing, and honestly, I needed that kind of supportive nescience after people realised I’d had a uterus and a vagina in addition to a penis and testicles the entire time they’d known me. I mean, everyone was completely _accepting_ , and most didn’t even mention it at all, but that’s not the point—”

“You didn’t want or need people to know,” Garak said. “It was a secret of yours. You wanted to be seen the way you chose to be seen. You were forced to reveal something personal against your will, and it was uncomfortable. Devastating, even. I can understand that.”

Julian nodded. He nuzzled into Garak’s collar and sighed.

“But this,” Julian said, feeling the churning storm inside him settle a little as Garak stroked his hand gently with his thumb. A slow breath left Julian, and he felt tired all of a sudden. “This has been the hardest, most stressful, painful, most terrifying part of my life. I can’t think about what I did, or what I’m doing, or what I have to do next. I can’t. Or this happens.” He gestured at his current state. “Garak – I’ve never been so afraid of _anything_.”

And with that, he settled into a silent lament, out of words and out of any reason to hold back the tide of _grief_ that had been building and releasing, building and releasing every day for five months, until release was all but impossible and his anguish went mounting and mounting until it strangled him breathless whenever he looked in the mirror, washed himself, or changed his clothes. He lived on the edge of hysteria, and had been holding it in for the sake of the people he loved. He couldn’t hide it anymore. So out it came pouring.

For a long, long time, Garak held Julian tight as he wept. Garak pressed his cheek to the top of Julian’s head, keeping him steady as he shook. Sometimes they’d rock, but then the rocking would stop. Julian thought he felt a kiss once, but was shaking too hard to be sure.

It said something about Julian’s state that he didn’t know how long he grieved for. Longer than half an hour, of that much he was certain. Whether it approached forty-five minutes or surpassed it, he couldn’t even guess.

But, within an hour, he was out of tears, and his only sounds were the softest whimpers that accompanied each breath. Julian wanted to convey to Garak that he wasn’t feeling better, just tired. Garak still held him with as much earnestness as before.

Eventually Julian ceased to whimper; his eyes stayed closed, breaths came slow, hands open on Garak’s chest. He rested, lulled by Garak’s heartbeat and the rhythmic stroke of a thumb through the hair at the base of Julian’s skull.

Sometime during this extended episode, Garak had pulled up the knit blanket, and Julian realised only now that he was snug between Garak and something that smelled like Miles and Keiko. He let out a moan of a sigh, feeling a flutter of comfort steal through him.

And as soon as he relaxed, he felt a tiny foot stab his navel. A grunt burst into his mouth, teeth gritted.

“Doctor?”

Julian put his head back on Garak’s shoulder. “Baby kicked.”

A small tea-scented breath gushed out of Garak, hot on Julian’s nose and lips.

Julian hissed as the baby kicked again. “Quiet down in there,” he complained tiredly, rubbing the curve. The baby ignored him and kicked again, making Julian squirm in discomfort.

“Doctor...?”

“Hm.”

“Mm— May I... feel...?”

Julian glanced up, discovering a hopeful expression on Garak’s face, parted lips and unwavering eye contact. Julian hummed and shuffled a little, then grimaced when his thigh remembered it existed and started to throb sharply. Steadfastly ignoring that, Julian sat so his back was to Garak’s chest, and Garak was wrapped around him.

As the baby kicked again, Julian pushed down the blanket, then rolled up his top, exposing the brown skin of his belly. His heart clenched, but somehow the sight of himself distended and bloated like this wasn’t nearly as terrifying when Garak was so close and exuded nothing but care and intrigue.

Julian relaxed back on Garak, patting around for a hand. He found Garak’s knuckles and lifted his palm to touch his belly. Garak’s breath actually stopped, then resumed with a huge exhale, heat gushing over Julian’s left shoulder.

“Down here,” Julian said, guiding Garak’s hand lower until they touched together below his navel. Garak ran his thumb over Julian’s wiry pubic hair, then realised what he was touching and whispered an apology, but Julian said, “It’s alright. Now don’t move; he’ll kick again in a moment.”

He lay his head back on Garak, eyes shut, letting go of a long breath. Turning to press his brow against Garak’s neck scales, he waited for the kick to come—

“Oh!” Garak was stunned, and Julian grinned. “ _Strong_ for an unborn child,” Garak said.

“Well,” Julian muttered through oncoming sleep, “he’s got Miles and Keiko’s genes. Shouldn’t be surprising.”

“Ohhh,” Garak said softly, his voice a sweet, warm breeze against Julian’s jaw. “I think there’s a little of you in there, too, my dear Julian.”

“Impossible,” Julian murmured.

Garak chuckled, tugging up the blanket to cover Julian, although he returned his palm under the blanket to touch Julian’s bare skin. “This baby is already a miracle of science. I have no doubt there are many more miracles to come.”

  
★  


Julian stirred from a sluggish void of confusion, inhaling through his nose and lifting his head. He realised he was in the living room, on the couch— And whose knee was this?

He looked back over his shoulder and was surprised to see Garak blinking his eyes open, disturbed from a rest by Julian’s movement.

Julian didn’t have a moment more to process the fact he’d _fallen asleep_ in Garak’s arms before the doors to the O’Briens’ quarters opened, and Julian realised he’d been awoken by the sound of the family’s approaching voices. Keiko was chatting away to Miles about the school day, and Molly skipped in at her side.

In a hurry, Julian sat up, only to regret it when he felt dizzy and had to be caught by Garak again.

“Slowly, my dear, not all at once,” Garak said, letting Julian recover, then helping him gradually to his feet. “Do you need the bathroom?”

Julian did, rather desperately, and was offended that Garak knew. “I can get there myself.”

“As you wish,” Garak said. He cast the arriving family a friendly smile, and nodded to them before looking back to Julian. “In that case, doctor, I’ll be on my way. I’ve no doubt missed a few customers’ tailoring appointments. Computer, time?”

“ _Time is seventeen—_ ”

“Seventeen!” Julian stared at the ceiling in horror. “I was asleep for four hours?!”

Keiko, while telling Molly to hold off on using the bathroom so Julian could go first, glanced over. “You must’ve been tired.”

Garak gave Julian a kind look, one that said ‘ _oh, dear lady, you have no idea_ ’. Julian found himself smiling back, glad to be understood and accepted so readily.

“Don’t hesitate to call me, doctor, should you need anything,” Garak said as he headed for the doors. “Anything at all.”

Julian sighed and sagged a little, sad that Garak had to go. But he nodded. “‘Night, Garak.”

“Goodnight, Julian.”

Garak’s blue eyes twinkled. He smiled as he left.

  
★  



	5. The Actual-Sleep Sleepover

The following evening, Julian lounged on the sofa for an hour after dinnertime ended. He read from his padd, arms folded, legs stretched out and ankles crossed.

He was only half paying attention to what he studied, and any attention he did pay was somewhat wasted, as he didn’t know enough about the Cardassian financial system to grasp the nuances of this particular paper.

He was kind of sleepy, besides, which wasn’t helping. Yesterday he’d taken a horrifically long nap, yet had still slept through the night afterwards. Maybe he needed another nap.

Damn. This wasn’t going to become a habit, was it? What a waste of time.

_But_ , his medical professional brain said, _any time spent looking after yourself is never time wasted_.

His grumpy pregnant brain grumbled in response.

With a sigh, Julian glanced up to the ceiling. “Computer, open communication with Garak.”

The computer bleeped acknowledgement, and a few seconds of quiet followed, filled only with faint bickering sounds from Julian’s bedroom, as Miles and Keiko were busy disagreeing over where to put the baby’s crib.

Then: “ _Hello? Garak here._ ”

“Garak, it’s me. Could you come to our quarters? I need you for something. Cardassian cultural translation in this medical paper I’m reading. It’s... semi-urgent. Might take a while.”

“ _Ahhh. Of course, doctor. Give me five minutes; I need to shut up my shop and have a customer reschedule her appointment._ ”

“Alright. Bashir out.”

Julian wondered why he didn’t feel bad for disrupting Garak’s evening business. He probably should feel bad. Yet he carried on dozing and staring at his padd and not feeling much of anything besides anticipation.

Eventually the door bleeped, and Julian sat up enough to call, “Come in.”

Garak entered, and a smile lit up his eyes when he saw Julian in one of the pregnancy tunics Garak had made him. “Ah, exquisite. Didn’t I say purple would suit you? How is the fit?”

“Comfy,” Julian smiled. “Sit down, would you? I need you to read this for me.”

Garak came up close and sat by Julian, near enough that their thighs touched. “And what _is_ this paper you’re so perplexed by that you require my translation?” Julian handed him the padd, and Garak scanned the title and contents, humming. “Surely you know most of this already, doctor. I’ve heard you launch _many_ a complaint about this exact manner of pharmaceutical price gouging over our lunches.”

“Yes, but,” Julian said, reaching behind Garak and propping up some pillows, then pushing him that way, “I need a Cardassian-to-Federation translation. Explain what it means, and such. You know.”

“Do I, indeed,” Garak said curiously, as Julian lay between his legs and snuggled into his soft tummy, sighing in relief. “So I just... read this aloud?”

“Mm-hm.” Julian felt his whole body sparkle with bliss as Garak set a hand upon his head. “Start at the beginning.”

Garak drew a breath. “Um.” He cleared his throat, wriggled himself comfortable under Julian, then began, “The central business and financial city of Barvonok— In fact that’s an error already, I see why you’re having trouble. Barvonok is a sector within _Cardassia_ City. That’s the capital city on Cardassia Prime—”

“I knowww that, Garak,” Julian mumbled, nosing into Garak’s warmth.

“With how much detail would you like me to explain?”

Julian hummed, vision growing dark. “Hmmm, don’t care. Just talk.”

Garak’s body shook as he chuckled.

Almost immediately his voice became a rumbly, incoherent blur of sound, mostly monotone but with the occasional pitch change and exasperated complaint about the sheer inaccuracy of this paper.

Just to keep up the pretense, Julian would sometimes hum an interested note like he was listening, or go, “Uh-huh...” before falling back into a foggy doze.

Garak kept reading. Even semi-conscious, Julian could sense a smile in his voice.

Gosh, he was warm. And soft.

And he kept stroking Julian’s hair...

  
★  


“Doctor...?” A hand took Julian’s shoulder and rubbed firmly.

Julian inhaled. “Hmmmmmmmm.”

“Doc-tooor,” Garak sang a little.

Julian stirred properly, raising his shoulders and smiling as he squeezed his arms around Garak’s middle – only to frown when Garak tensed. Lifting his head, Julian looked up. “Whuh?” Julian asked, tongue slow, head fuzzy.

Garak gave an apologetic smile, the pudge under his chin wrinkling as he peered down. “As abhorrent as I find the idea of disturbing you, doctor, I find I can’t extricate myself from your grip. Every time I move, you... cling tighter.”

“‘N where're you going, n‘xactly?” Julian asked.

“I have, ah – an urgent need for refreshment.”

Julian pouted and put his cheek back on Garak’s middle. “Get Miles to get you a drink.”

“Ah, you misunderstand. I— Rather embarrassing. But I drank some rokassa juice a short time before responding to your summons.”

Julian raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes closed. “You need to pee?”

Garak’s throat tensed as he wheezed, “Your _chin_! is pressing in a very unfortunate place!”

Julian groaned and pushed himself upright. “Alright, Garak, go on.”

Garak got up in a hurry and disappeared from the living room in a hurry. Julian heard him apologise to Keiko on his way to the bathroom. Garak didn’t like to use other people’s bathrooms, and didn’t like to even mention that he _had_ those sorts of bodily functions, so the fact he’d stuck around for so long, suffering, seemed to Julian like a very sweet thing to do.

“Look at _you_ , awake at last,” Miles uttered to Julian, coming past with fresh laundry in his arms. He paused behind the sofa, grinning. “You never used to snore.”

“I was snoring?” Julian gawped. “Why didn’t anyone stop me?”

“Well, you just looked so cosy,” Keiko said as she came up behind Miles. She took the laundry stack and pulled out Julian’s items, handing them back to her husband. “And Miles _did_ tell Garak to turn your head, but Garak looked like he might murder him if he took a step closer, so...” She shrugged, grinned, cast Miles a look, then turned to put their clean clothes away.

Miles started sorting Julian’s underwear from his tops and trousers on the back of the sofa. “Do you even _want_ these in your dresser? You’ve just been dumping everything on your armchair.”

Julian waved a hand noncommittally, so Miles stacked up the piles and went to put them in the drawers, muttering to himself about how Julian was worse than Molly when it came to putting things away.

Garak emerged from the bathroom a half-minute later, his energy small and chastised. Julian had rarely seen him look so embarrassed.

“Thank you... for letting me use the facilities,” Garak said, eyes down. “I should perhaps be on my way, I’ve intruded enough.”

“Garak!” Julian sat up straighter on the sofa. “You’re not leaving already?”

“So sorry to disappoint you, doctor, but I do have a _life_ outside of this room.”

Oh, so he was getting _prickly_ now. Julian scoffed. This wasn’t about his so-called ‘life’. Garak was just mortified that now everyone here knew he wasn’t just a riddle stacked on top of an enigma stacked on top of a mystery, wrapped in a trenchcoat. He couldn’t run away from this now. Julian wouldn’t let him.

Julian employed his sparkliest puppy eyes. “I was hoping that... maybe, if it was okay with Miles and Keiko... you’d stay the night.”

Garak locked eyes with him, breath catching. He huffed and his eyes darted away, but the faintest smile touched his grey lips, and it only grew wider as he lowered his chin. “Hm. I would love to, doctor, truly I would; but that decision is very much in the hands of Chief O’Brien and his lovely wife, and I’m afraid they—”

“Oh, stay!” Keiko chirped. “Garak, you’re welcome, of course you’re _welcome_.” She took Garak’s arm and gave him a friendly squeeze. “Do you want something to eat? I didn’t put the leftovers in the reclaimer yet. Medeterranian roasted vegetables! How do you feel about sundried tomatoes, yes or no?”

Garak peered after her as she fussed around with a plate and cutlery. Astonished, he looked from Keiko to Julian, and Julian grinned as wide as physically possible then tipped his head back to laugh.

“Looks like _we’re_ having a _sleepover_ , Garak,” Julian said, trying to keep his absolute delight contained.

“What’s a sleepover?” Molly asked, flopping to lean on Julian’s legs.

“Oh, it’s a slumber party,” Julian explained. “Garak’s sleeping in our quarters tonight. Aren’t you?” He looked over at Garak hopefully.

“Yeah!” Molly cheered. “Uncle Julian kept the fort up ‘cause he said you didn’t get to enjoy it enough yet, Uncle Garak.”

Garak let his wide shoulders sag, and a smile rose. “Sundried tomatoes are fine, Mrs. O’Brien, thank you kindly.”

“Keiko,” Keiko said, catching Garak’s eyes. “It’s Keiko.”

Garak bowed his head, his smile spreading. “Keiko.”

Julian gave Molly a brief hug, right before Miles called her with a mildly annoyed tone from Julian’s room, and she rocketed off to tidy up her toys.

Garak ate, sitting on the far end of the sofa. Julian scrunched up nearby, barefoot, head on his hand and his elbow on the back of the sofa, watching Garak cut his food and listening to him ramble on about how root vegetables were preserved on Cardassia in far better and more tasty ways than all this nonsense with olive oil, sun, and salt.

“I suppose _I’m_ a sort of preservative,” Julian said thoughtfully, toying with an overgrown lock of his hair as he gazed into the middle-distance. “I’m a well-sealed jar of nutrient-rich pickling fluid.”

Molly giggled in time with Garak’s chortle, while Miles and Keiko gave admonishing huffs of amusement.

“I’m going to need un- _screwing_ very soon,” Julian added. “Or this baby’s never coming out.”

Keiko and Miles exchanged an odd look, but Julian was distracted when Molly crawled up onto the middle of the couch between himself and Garak, kneeling and facing Julian’s belly.

“Can I listen?” she asked, her cute little face peering up at Julian.

Julian nodded, and grinned when Molly lay her ear against his middle.

“How long until he comes out?” Molly asked. Her voice was so light, but it still thrummed through Julian’s body and tickled oddly.

“Hmm, about two weeks. Thirteen days,” Julian said. “But babies don’t always arrive the day they’re supposed to arrive. He might be a few days early or late.”

“And then I’ll have a little brother. Have we decided what he’s going to be named yet?”

Julian looked over at Miles, mouth open, as he had no confirmed answer.

Miles glanced at Keiko, then back to Julian. “Weeeee were thinking maybe we could name him after Uncle Julian.”

Julian cringed. “Oh, God, no; _please_ don’t. I _liked_ your shortlist. Keiko’s choices were better, no offence. ‘Yoshi’ was good. Go with ‘Yoshi’.”

Keiko laughed. “We’re still calling him Yoshi. Just... maybe a middle name.”

Molly said it aloud: “Yoshi Julian O’Brien!”

Julian made an uncomfortable noise. “He sounds like he’s perpetually in trouble. I don’t like it.”

Garak assured him, “You’ll get used to it in time, doctor. And when does anyone use those Humanoid middle names you have, in any case? I don’t think I’ve ever once referred to you as ‘Subatoi’.”

Julian felt an unexpected tingle rush down his spine upon hearing that sound from Garak’s mouth. His eyes settled on Garak and stayed there, even when Miles spoke again.

“Well,” Miles said, “if you didn’t like that, what about Juyoshi? ‘Ju’ meaning ‘tree’ in Japanese. And, obviously, it’s the start of ‘Julian’.”

Julian finally blinked his attention away from Garak. “H’muh?” He looked at Miles. “Ju...yoshi?”

Keiko smiled. “You don’t hate it?”

“I don’t haaate it,” Julian supposed. “Juyoshi. Hmmm.” He straightened a leg past Molly and poked Garak in the thigh with a toe. “Do you like it?”

Garak gulped down a mouthful too soon in his surprise. He looked at Julian in astonishment. “What would you want my opinion for?”

Julian shrugged. “You’re going to end up embroidering the name on a little towel or a baseball shirt at some point, aren’t you?”

Garak chuckled. He looked over at Keiko and Miles and tipped his head to them. “I most certainly would not mind embroidering that name. Juyoshi.”

Molly exclaimed, with force: “I _like_ it!”

Keiko and Miles exchanged a smile. “Juyoshi O’Brien,” they said together.

Julian beamed, letting his eyes well up, hot. They soon cooled as the tears faded, and he patted Molly on the back. She lifted her head from his belly as last.

“Hm.” Garak smacked his lips, setting his knife and fork to one side of his plate, then lifting his napkin from his collar and pat-pat-patting his mouth clean. “Most delicious. Thank you again for the meal.”

“Hey, thank the replicator,” Keiko said flatly, grinning as she leaned to take Garak’s empty plate. “Do you know where you’re sleeping? I can find some extra blankets for the couch if you need them.”

“Oh—” Julian shook his head frantically. “No-no. He’s in my room. My bed.”

Garak looked at Julian, then away, inexpressive.

“Alright,” Keiko said calmly. “I’ll go find some pillows. Miles, can you replicate him a toothbrush and some _toiletries_?”

“On it,” Miles grunted, getting up, trudging to the replicator. “Garak, you got any preference for toothpaste flavour?”

“Whatever the doctor finds least irritating to his hyperactive olfactory senses,” Garak said, giving Julian a smile.

Julian chuckled and glanced over at Miles. “Mild spearmint.”

Garak was looking at Julian when Julian peeked over – but Garak nonchalantly looked away again, suddenly fascinated by the soft furnishings in the room, as though he hadn’t already spent hundreds of hours studying them over the past few months.

Keiko came back to the living room with five fat white pillows in her arms, since she was always dead against those ridiculous triangular grey things that did nothing for a pregnant person’s back. She glanced at Garak on the way to Julian’s room. “You need a change of clothes? Miles has some spare shirts and boxers you could borrow.”

Julian’s eyes shot to Miles, waiting to hear an “Oi!”, but Miles just looked up, smirked, and got back to ordering toothpaste.

Garak was again looking at Julian when Julian looked back. Having drawn a breath, Garak said to Keiko, “Ah, no, but thank you for the offer.”

Keiko smiled and went to deposit the pillows in the bedroom.

“Here.” Miles handed Garak a clear packet containing his toothpaste and a brush and a face towel and a little pot of moisturiser, among other bottles and assorted manicure tools. “Feel free to, uh, use the, uh. Sonic shower, if, uh. You know. You need to. Uh. F-f-freshen up before. Uh. Or— Or after. Or both. Just. Yeah.” He cleared his throat and turned away to leave the room, his cheeks red.

Julian was more than a little intrigued by Miles’ unusually agreeable yet flustered mood.

As Molly hopped off the sofa and went to help her mother make Julian’s bed, Julian stretched out his legs completely, pushing his feet onto the side of Garak’s thigh. “You’ve got yourself a home away from home, it seems.”

“So it does,” Garak said with no small amount of surprise. He frowned at the bag of toiletries, unzipped it, and pulled out a small lilac bottle. He squinted at it.

“What is it?” Julian asked.

Garak’s mouth opened. Then shut. He looked sheepishly at Julian and put on a smile. “I think perhaps Chief O’Brien has especially high hopes for you and I tonight.”

“Oh?”

Garak chuckled, then showed Julian the bottle. Julian took it, read the label, then handed it back with a fast hand and a bashful huff. “I’m a bit too pregnant to make good use of that stuff anytime soon. Sorry. I don’t know _what_ Miles was thinking.”

“I suspect he was thinking you invited me here so we could make love.”

“Well, I didn’t!”

“I realise that, doctor,” Garak smiled gently. He put the bottle of lubricant back into the pouch and sat still with his hands on his lap. “Do you— That is to say— What time, approximately, is your bedtime?”

“Bed’s ready!” Molly came bounding out of the bedroom, much too bouncy for this time of night. Apparently Garak being here was very exciting. “And we put extra pillows because Mommy says you need to be comfortable.”

Julian felt heat burning under his skin. “Thank you, Molly,” he said. “Sleep well!” he called after her as she hurtled for the other room.

“Night-night, Uncle Julian! Night-night, Uncle Garak!” And then she was gone.

Keiko came out of Julian’s bedroom looking businesslike. “Okay,” she said, “I’ve turned up the environmental controls in there so you won’t get cold – either of you; I know you like it warmer, Garak. And Julian, just make sure you lie on your back or side. If you do want to be on your front – I can’t recommend it, it gets tiring quickly – trust me, use pillows. There’s extras if you need them. And I left the sonic cleaner on your nightstand just in case.” She came up to Julian and smacked a kiss on his forehead, then shot Garak a nice smile. “Be gentle with him, he’s had a bit of a dry spell. Might take him a while to warm up.” She winked and headed for the other room. “‘Nii-iight!”

Once alone, Garak and Julian sat for nearly half a minute in a horrified silence.

Julian eventually forced his thoroughly derailed brain back on track. He swallowed, shooting Garak an uncertain glance. “I really _didn’t_ — I didn’t say anything to them, I swear. It must’ve been the thing I said about unscrewing jars. Vaginal sex is a really effective way to induce labour – or prepare for it, at least. They must’ve thought—”

“Quite all right, doctor; quite all right,” Garak said, without meeting Julian’s eyes. “Misunderstandings do happen.”

“It’s not that I don’t—” Julian blushed. “I didn’t actually mean it, the other week, when I said you weren’t cute. I was joking.”

Garak blinked. “Oh.”

“You are really _very_ attractive, Garak, and it’s not that I wouldn’t _want_ to – _you-know_ – if you happened to ask. I’m just. I’m heavily pregnant.”

“The fact hadn’t escaped my notice.”

“And I really don’t feel very sexy.”

“Understandable.”

“I haven’t, actually. Felt sexy, I mean. Not since the shuttle.”

Garak met his eyes now, sympathy glossy in his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m actually a tiny bit worried I never will again,” Julian muttered, looking down at his fiddling hands.

“Hm,” Garak said. “I hope that your worries ultimately prove to be unfounded.” He paused then added, tentatively, “If it helps at all, I... well, I don’t think you’re any _less_ appealing like this. But I can understand your discomfort with the idea of... ah, intimacy. I take no offense, doctor. None at all.”

Julian smiled awkwardly, then shifted where he sat, bashful under Garak’s intense gaze. “Um.”

A long silence.

Then Julian drew a breath. “Do you want to go to bed?” He blanched, and hurriedly added, “To sleep! To sleep. Actual sleeping.”

Garak chuckled, his eyes bright as he met Julian’s flustered gaze. “It would be a moderate but not excessive pleasure to do so, yes.”

Julian laughed to himself, a hand over his eyes. “God. I’m going to need to have a good talk with those two tomorrow. They really are the most embarrassing parents.”

“But they are also loving, and supportive,” Garak said, holding Julian’s hands to help him to his feet. “And under it all, I don’t think there’s anything Molly or Juyoshi could want or need more than that. Or any child – or any _friend_ , for that matter.”

Julian felt something go all gooey inside his chest. “No,” he agreed, still holding Garak’s hands. “No, you’re right.”

Garak let his hands go, eyes still holding on. “Would you like to visit the facilities first, or may I?”

“Well, I just stood up, so now I’m going to wet myself if I don’t go first.”

Garak chuckled, bowing his head and fluttering a hand to shoo Julian away. “I shall patiently await my turn.”

  
★  


Julian entered his bedroom and gasped, immediately covering his eyes. “Oh, shoot, sorry.”

Garak stood nude by the farthest away of the fort curtains, at Julian’s bookshelf, flicking through Keiko’s paper tomes on ancient Earth botany. “No need to apologise, my dear doctor. I thought it best to undress to my underclothes. My tunics are warm, but they can get constricting during sleep.”

Julian peeked over his hand and relaxed as he realised Garak _was_ actually wearing clothes; they were just a similar grey tone to his skin and—

Very tight.

A bralette-like top with wide straps draped over his shoulders, exposing his shoulder ridges. His thighs were equally bare, and they had thick scales running up their sides. 

Julian swallowed a flood of saliva that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

“Bathroom’s free,” he said.

Garak snapped his book shut and tucked it back into the shelf, wearing a smile. “I shan’t be three minutes, then.”

He touched Julian’s chest, hand pushing to his heart as he passed.

Now in private, Julian denuded himself and changed his underwear in the usual awkward, ungainly fashion, then found himself a loose t-shirt in the drawer Miles had packed with fresh laundry. He forgot to check before he donned it, but he suspected it was the shirt with Quark’s bar logo on the back. Keiko kept trying to give it away, but it kept coming back, and eventually she gave up. She finally found a use for it when Julian came along with a baby bump too big for regular clothes.

When Garak returned smelling minty, Julian was halfway through tossing pillows onto the armchair Miles had emptied for him. “Definitely don’t need all these. Maybe a couple. I need one under my back. How many do you need?”

Garak caught a pillow before it fell on the floor. “These _are_ soft, aren’t they,” he said, fascinated.

“How _many_ , Garak?”

“One? I have yet to form an opinion.”

“I’ve given you two, and you can toss one out if you hate it,” Julian decided. He crawled forward onto the bed, turned himself face-up, and inched about like an upturned crab, so that when he finally fell down he was in the right position. “Ahh! Right. Come on.” He looked at Garak and opened his arms towards him. “Cuddle time.”

Garak seemed to blush. He put down the marshmallowy pillow and came up to the bed. He looked especially handsome in the golden and purple light; all the harsh beams were softened by the draped fort fabric. “Truth be told, doctor,” he said humbly, “I’m not completely sure what you want from me.”

Julian sighed. “Just lie with me, Garak. Be... I don’t know, _here_.” He swallowed and added, gently, hopefully, “Hold me?”

Garak’s smile grew, crinkling around his eyes. “I can hold you, doctor. Certainly I can.” He got onto the bed with great care, trying not to jostle Julian. “Are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I’m going to get. Miles usually massages my legs, but he clearly skipped that tonight.”

“Do you want me to...?”

“Umm.” Julian hesitated, then nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind? Start with my toes, then go from my heels and work up.”

Garak moved to kneel at Julian’s feet, and set both heels on his lap. Julian shut his eyes, letting go of a long breath as Garak’s thumbs pummelled the pain right out of his toes and heels with barely any effort at all. Soon hot hands shifted their way up his calves, fingers working deep into the muscles, thumbs bristling through leg hair.

“Hmmmm, you’re good at this,” Julian remarked. “Different speed than Miles but... I kind of like it.”

“I am _beside_ myself with joy to hear it.”

Julian laughed quietly, peeking down at Garak. He really did look gorgeous in a soft light. Perhaps the regular lighting on DS9 was designed to make Cardassians look threatening, all harsh and sharp to play up their angles. But in a little girl’s play den, he was all round cheeks and pleasant slopes, and his eyes... oh, his eyes...? Such a sparkle. With nothing to distract away, Julian saw just how much _fondness_ shone outwards from Garak.

Julian tucked a hand behind his head, propping himself up to watch Garak care for him.

Miles was usually done by now, but Garak, without a cue to stop, kept going. He massaged Julian’s thighs too, which hurt more than expected, but each flinch and grunt and kick was met with renewed softness and no sign of retreat.

It went on for a while, even after the pain was gone. It was just... nice. Soothing.

Julian only realised when he felt the bed depress beside him that he’d fallen asleep at some point during his massage, and Garak now joined him.

“What now?” Garak asked.

“Arms around me.” Julian beckoned with a finger, angling himself a little rightwards so he was able to have Garak more at his back than his side. Once Garak’s left arm encircled the underside of Julian’s belly, and the right slid gently under his waist dip, Julian let out a huge sigh of relief.

Garak chuckled. “You always make that sound when I embrace you. Have you noticed?”

Julian exhaled another sigh. “Jusssst... feels good... when you hug me. ‘S all.” He squirmed, then complained, “Closer.”

Garak nudged his hips up against Julian’s side and tucked his chin onto his shoulder.

Julian hummed in gladness. “Computer.... lights...”

He yawned in the darkness.

They lay unmoving and unspeaking for almost seven minutes, but Julian couldn’t fall back asleep. His back was starting to ache.

With a heave of a groan, he rolled away from Garak, patting around and irritably dragging pillows to support his belly.

Garak stilled Julian’s clawing hands and whispered, “I’ll do it for you, Julian. Tell me what you need.”

“Pillows... under me. For support. Want to be on my side.”

Garak arranged things decently. Julian made an approving noise: he was now in total comfort lying on his right.

Garak settled at his back, but he was only close by, not hugging.

“Cuddle,” Julian demanded.

Garak’s breath halted – and then resumed. “Like this?” He pressed his front to Julian’s back, tummy in the dip of Julian’s spine, his hands around his waist, nose an inch from the nape of his neck. The humidity of hot breath made Julian’s hair stand on end.

“Mm-hm, exactly,” Julian said. “Blanket.”

Garak moved a hand and pulled up the blanket to cover them both. “Anything else?”

“Kiss my neck.”

Garak let out a breathy laugh. “Goodnight, doctor.”

“No... I mean it, Garak. Kiss me.” Julian stared at the darkness, heart leaping in anticipation. He wanted to know how much he was allowed to ask for.

Garak relaxed, humming through a smile. “Alright.” He kissed the back of Julian’s neck, just once, but with _intense_ tenderness, and Julian felt like he might just melt off the bed and onto the floor. Tingles still danced through his body seconds later.

“Was that satisfying?” Garak asked playfully.

Julian nodded, whimpering a little. “Felt nice.”

“Good.” Garak kissed him again, then snuggled ever closer, one hot, scaly thigh slipping between Julian’s slim and hairy counterparts.

Julian’s final waking efforts were expended as he slipped a hand to hold Garak’s against his belly, fingers curled between fingers.

Then, just as he drifted off to sleep, he whispered, “Elim...?”

“Hm? What is it, my dear?”

“Thank youuuhhhh...”

  
★  



	6. Nausea, Nice Goodbyes, and a Night of Family Hugs

Garak stirred from slumber, giving a grunt of discontent.

“Sorry,” Julian whispered, squirming his way to the foot of the bed and dropping to his feet. “Back in a minute.”

Garak had almost fallen back asleep by the time Julian returned from his third nightly trip to the bathroom, but he still got to his feet in order to let Julian crawl back into bed. Julian only liked to lie on his right side and wanted to be the little spoon, which meant Garak had to lie between him and the door. Which meant every damn time Julian woke up needing to pee, poor Garak got woken up too.

Somehow, despite his annoyance over being woken, Garak was taking the disturbances all in his stride, and yet again cuddled up to Julian, holding his hand, exhaling on his neck.

“Feel sick,” Julian said, letting out slow, measured breaths. “Computer, lights; ten-percent brightness. Hhhhhhhh.”

“Do you need something?” Garak mumbled against Julian’s shoulder. “I can get you an anti-nauseatic hypospray.”

“Hmm. It’s fine.” Julian swallowed hard. “It’ll pass.”

Two minutes later he jerked upright, breathing carefully, head back, desperately trying not to throw up, pass out, or both.

“I’m getting you a hypospray,” Garak uttered, swinging his legs out of bed.

“Hhn – no. No.” Julian shook his head, sleepy fog making his thoughts sluggish. “Tea. Peppermint. With a pinch of salt in it. God, I’m dizzy.”

Garak touched Julian’s neck and shoulder as he pushed himself up. “I’ll be quick. Slow breaths, doctor.”

“Hm.”

Garak was indeed quick, and returned with a little mug of steaming tea. He knelt on the bed and knee-shuffled closer, handed Julian his drink, then tended to the pillows. He fetched more from the chair and stacked them up against the lit-up headboard.

Holding Julian’s waist with one hand and supporting his back with the other, Garak helped him move backwards half a metre until he rested comfortably, slumped at a forty-five degree angle with his nose in his mug.

Garak sat beside him, watching him drink.

“How are you feeling now?” Garak asked, when the tea was half gone.

“Hm.” Julian blinked tiredly. “Less sick. But now I’ve got acid reflux and my tummy hurts. My tummy _always_ hurts these days.” He pouted.

Garak smiled, reaching to put a hand on Julian’s bare knee. “Tummy,” he said, apparently to himself.

Julian chuckled. “You don’t call your middle a tummy?”

“I call my abdomen any number of variations on a proper Cardassian word, doctor, but it invariably translates to something less infantile than ‘ _tummy_ ’.”

“‘Tummy’ _is_ a proper word. I’mma medic’al pr’feshional.” Julian sipped his tea, then decided he’d had enough, and handed the mug to Garak.

Garak surprised him: he drank the rest himself. He set the mug on the bedside table, next to the sonic cleaner Keiko had so thoughtfully left out for them.

“Would you care to lie down?” Garak asked.

“Nuh-uh.” Julian shook his head. “Stuhh... Stay sitting up.”

Garak patted his knee. “Computer, lights off.”

The dim haze that had put a glow through the hanging sheets now vanished, and the room was left pitch-black as the light of the headboard was covered by pillows.

Julian kept nearing sleep, but jerked awake when his head collapsed to one side. The third time it happened, he moaned a note of irritation – and Garak responded with a soft sound and a warm hand on Julian’s cheek.

“Here, my dear. Over here.”

Julian found his head guided left and propped onto Garak’s warm shoulder. Fingers teased through his hair, and what felt suspiciously like a kiss landed with a press and a tickle upon Julian’s forehead.

“Sleep, Julian,” Garak said gently, moving his hand to hold Julian’s. “I’ll be with you until morning.”

Julian didn’t even question it. He fell asleep within a minute.

  
★  


Julian woke to find himself comfortably contained within Garak’s arms, having slid down from the pillow mountain in the night. Garak was mostly behind him now, breathing into Julian’s hair, while a hand stroked up and down Julian’s forearm. The lights shone with a cooler-toned setting, simulating fresh morning daylight.

A slow and content sigh escaped Julian, completely by accident. He then smacked his lips and swallowed, taking a deep breath. “You awake?” he asked, voice rusty.

“Mm-hm,” Garak replied. Judging by the sound of him, he’d been awake a long time.

Julian shifted his legs, feeling a familiar pang of discomfort from his bladder. Ugh. He was so tired of this whole thing.

“Time is almost oh-seven-hundred,” Garak murmured. “If I’m not mistaken, you need to get up for work.”

“Yeah.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but wouldn’t it be prudent to start taking time _off_ work?”

“But then what would I _do_ all day?” Julian replied, heaving himself up and away from Garak – then panicking faintly when he realised he had an erection and it was probably very noticeable through his underwear. He tried to get to the edge of the bed without exposing himself to Garak, but Garak only reached out to help Julian move, taking both hands, then his waist, lifting as if they were about to waltz. If Garak saw the rise between Julian’s legs, he said nothing about it, and certainly didn’t look for more than a split-second.

“I’ll fetch you your breakfast,” Garak said. “Buttered scones and jam?”

Julian’s hand went to touch Garak’s chest as the Cardassian gave an expectant look. He nodded, smiling. “Buttered scones and jam.”

  
★  


A nice goodbye before work was always especially refreshing, Julian thought. Miles gave Julian the usual back-pat-shoulder-squeeze-arm-stroke as he left. Molly tugged on Julian’s hand before running off to chase her father, and Keiko – dear Keiko – she put a sweet little kiss on Julian’s cheek.

But _Garak_ —?

Once the room was empty of other people, he wrapped his arms around Julian from behind, then snuggled into his shoulder and breathed there. For well over a minute they rocked from side-to-side, shifting their weight, Julian smiling helplessly. A hand snuck up to hold the back of Garak’s head, and Garak hum-hum-hummed a laugh.

“Come on,” Julian said, letting his head fall back. “I’m going to be late for work.”

“Hmmmm.” Garak cuddled him some more. “So, be late.”

Julian laughed softly. “Garak,” he chastised, affectionately. He turned to face Garak, slinging both arms over his shoulders, holding the scales at the back of his neck. They gazed at each other for a while, both smiling.

“I’m sorry for waking you up so many times,” Julian said, eyes drifting off to the side. “Unfortunately that’s just how I sleep right now.”

“No matter, doctor,” Garak said smoothly. “It’s an honour to suffer with you.”

Julian laughed, letting Garak go and pushing him away. “Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Undoubtedly.”

They parted outside the door, still smiling, eyes twinkling. Julian got a few steps away before looking back, and he chuckled in time with Garak – he’d looked back too.

  
★  


As far as days went, the rest of that one turned out to be an exceptionally good example. Julian found his physical dimensions more of an annoyance than a cause of distress, which was a first. He floated through his tasks, feeling light of foot and sound of mind, looking forward to the evening.

He couldn’t believe how much difference it made, sharing his bed with someone. Having someone _there_ with him. Holding him. He hadn’t felt this good in so long that he’d forgotten he even _could_ feel like this.

His good mood dipped, however, when he returned to the O’Briens’ quarters and found only the usual suspects there and no trace of Garak whatsoever.

Well, no matter. Garak did have work to do. He’d probably be along later.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, with buttered chapattis wrapped around salad and mycoprotein-mince taco fillings. Conversation provided many a laugh at the expense of Miles, who’d had several separate run-ins with a determined vole in the service tunnels, only to realise late in the afternoon that the vole was Odo, on the hunt for something suspicious that Quark had apparently stashed out of sight.

Julian giggled for a while, half because of the story, half because he’d started giggling and now he couldn’t stop. Eventually he calmed down with a long hum and peeked out—

Miles and Keiko were looking at him all _knowingly_.

Julian sat up a bit more, eyes darting unsurely to Molly, who was feeding Piggy a scrap of her chapatti.

“Um,” Julian said, looking back to the couple, who exchanged self-congratulatory glances. “I— I’ve been meaning to talk to you two. About last night.”

Keiko smiled over at him. “You had a good time with Garak, huh. It really shows.”

A breath went in and out of Julian, only lightly used. “Well— Yes, actually. It was lovely. But—”

Miles added, “Listen, if you wanna have him over more often, that’s fine by us. We figured you might want to.” He raised a surrendering hand and got back his food, mopping up sauce from his plate with the last of his flatbread. “It’s obviously good for you. _He_ is, I mean.” Miles shot Julian a tense yet encouraging look, eyes forced to crinkle. “You’re _way_ more relaxed. Giddy, kind of? Guess it goes to show what a good lay can do for yeh, huh?” He cackled, shaking his head as he stuffed his mouth again and chewed.

Keiko beamed, just watching Julian adjust his position on the sofa.

Julian couldn’t imagine a decent way to break it to them that he had actually just slept with Garak, not _slept_ with him. But he smiled anyway, nodding, eyes down. “Goes to show...!”

He swallowed. Why _was_ he in such a good mood now? Was it Garak himself? Or... what they _did_ while he was here?

Eyeing his friends curiously, Julian ventured, “Miles...?”

“Mm?”

Julian lifted his arms a little. “Can I—?”

Miles looked at him, then got up and approached from the dining table, ready to help Julian to his feet. But Julian shook his head, took Miles’ hand, and tugged him to sit close.

“Hug me?” Julian asked, looking softly at Miles.

Miles chuckled. “A’right.” He leaned in, pressed his torso to Julian’s, pat-patted his shoulder then backed up— Julian complained and brought Miles back, thumping their chests together again. Julian squeezed tighter, trying to stop his friend from pulling away.

Miles quickly got the message. He chuckled again, and moved a bit closer, arranging their bodies so he wasn’t so twisted. Julian leaned into the sofa cushions, eyes closed, while Miles stretched his legs in parallel. Their socked feet touched on the rug.

After thirty seconds, Miles asked, “Enough?”

“Nnno,” Julian scowled. “You’re supposed to cuddle me.”

Keiko chuckled from the table. “Just stay put, Miles. Give him what he wants.”

Miles hummed. He did as he was told and seemed to relax into it a bit. His was certainly a loving touch, but even after a minute, it remained awkward. Julian still got the impression Miles was waiting for the first opportunity to escape. Maybe it was because his wife and daughter were watching.

Aha! A sudden brainwave! With the intention of making Miles more comfortable, Julian glanced over at Keiko and said, “You too?”

Keiko cooed a happy note and abandoned the last of her dinner, going to sit at Julian’s back and wrapping his waist with both arms. Her shoulder tucked over Julian’s in the exact place Garak’s had last night, and her smell was just as sweet.

Julian felt a flutter in his heart, and he purred, snuggling into the embrace, eyes shut and smile wide.

He wondered why the hell he hadn’t been able to _ask_ for this in all the months leading up to now...

No! He _had_ asked, a hundred different ways, multiple times a day, for months – but his wish hadn’t ever been granted for more than a few seconds, or perhaps a minute at best. The people around him showed their love in so many various ways, but until Garak allowed Julian the opportunity to receive what he needed the same way he gave it, with equal intensity, Julian had been forced to accept what he was given, the way it was given. It was all obvious love. So it was always appreciated. But _no wonder_ he’d felt like there was something missing! No wonder he’d felt lonely. He needed to charge up like a fuel cell powered by physical affection, and extended touch was the only way, he realised now. Words were good but weren’t enough. Gestures and actions and gifts meant everything to him, but ultimately missed the mark.

This.

This was what he needed.

Little Molly, inevitably feeling left out, launched herself onto Julian’s lap, and the adult trio gave a simultaneous yelp, followed by warm laughter. Hands pulled Molly in, holding her closer and adding her to the pile.

At the furnace core of familiar body heat, Julian let out a slow, comforted breath as swirls of gratitude and affection overtook his heart. In these moments he felt like a stout wax candle coloured pinkish-red; the luminance of the steady flame showed through to his base, lighting all of him at once, leaving him malleable and soft but still in one piece.

The only thing he noticed, however, was that his happy sigh did not contain the moan of utter relief that came involuntarily with Garak.

Julian tried to recreate it, but it came out like another happy sigh.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

In due time, Molly got restless and squirmed her way off the pile – and left a cold spot on Julian’s legs where she’d been, which made him uncomfortable, so he shifted in place. Then Miles stirred, taking a deep breath and letting go. Keiko squeezed one more time and sat up.

So just like that, it was over. Julian sat up too, a pleasant smile on his face and a lingering candle-glow in his chest.

The adults exchanged fond looks, and Miles held Julian’s hand for a few seconds before he got up. Julian started to grin, and kept grinning occasionally for a good chunk of the evening’s remainder.

Once Molly was in bed, however, he’d determined that a sofa-hug was lovely but not enough to sustain him through the night. So he asked, tentatively, “Can I invite Garak over tonight?”

Miles glanced up from the engineering report he was reading on his padd. “What? Yeah? You don’t need to ask, Julian.”

Keiko nodded. “Do you and him need anything else? More... ‘toiletries’?”

Julian felt his cheeks flush hot. “Oh. No. No, we have enough... ‘toiletries’.” He cleared his throat. “Computer... open communication with Garak.”

Garak replied quickly. “ _Doctor?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s me. Um. Do you— About tonight, are you— Any chance you’d, um... W-Were you planning on—?”

“ _I’ll be with you momentarily, my dear,_ ” Garak said smoothly, amusement in his voice. “ _Was there anything else?_ ”

Julian blushed, hot under the watchful eyes of Keiko and Miles, who kept _smiling_. “No,” Julian said. “Just that.”

“ _Then I’ll join you before twenty-two hundred. Garak out._ ”

Julian drew a breath as the channel closed, and he tucked both hands under his baby bump, shoulders rising.

“He seemed eager,” Keiko remarked. “He must’ve had a good time last night, too.”

Julian’s heart fluttered. He managed a hopeful little half-smile, then slumped back onto the sofa to wait.

  
★  



	7. Tummy Rub

Garak arrived with a rectangular, utilitarian-style handheld bag and a very comfortable smile. He leaned into Julian’s brief hug, then turned to acknowledge Keiko and Miles with a nod.

“Oop, came prepared this time, I see,” Keiko said. “An overnight bag! Good thinking, Garak.” She batted Miles’ arm. “We were just heading to bed.”

Miles glanced up at his wife. “I’ve got another couple sections of this to go through first, sweetheart, but I’ll be—” He stopped talking abruptly when Keiko gave him a mad-eyed smile and a pointed look. Miles gulped, shooting Julian a put-on simper. “Actually never mind yeh know what it’s nothing I can’t do in the other room bye g’night have fun see ya tomorrow yeah?”

They left.

Garak stared at the closed door with his mouth partly open. Then he looked at the awkwardly-smiling Julian with a discerning squint. “I see your ‘talk’ went splendidly.”

Julian gulped. “Theeeeyyyyy, uhm... proved difficult to convince,” he lied.

“Hm. Yes, I can imagine. I’ve rarely met a more stubborn man than that Mr. O’Brien.”

Julian took a breath. “Um. Soooo. Do you want some... food? A drink? Or—?”

“If you’d like to go straight to bed, doctor, that would suit me just fine.”

“Oh.” Julian felt a rush of excitement. “Okay.” The rush didn’t subside as he left the living room and headed into his bedroom, followed a step behind by Garak.

“Is this ‘fort’ to be a permanent fixture?” Garak wondered, as he put his bag down on the armchair and automatically began folding the clothes Julian had dumped there. Julian noticed he folded them in the attractive manner of the clothes displayed at his shop, not the fold-it-so-it-fits way that Miles favoured. 

Garak continued, “Molly seemed to imply you were keeping the sheets up for my benefit. I’ll admit this room does have a certain frivolous charm, doctor, but in terms of interior decor designed to facilitate the care of a newborn baby, I am more inclined towards the unimpeded functionality of Cardassian architec—”

Garak went quiet and breathless, having turned at the wrong moment and set eyes on Julian changing out of his underwear.

“Forgive me,” Garak said softly, eyes averted, but not turning away. “I didn’t intend—”

“It’s all right,” Julian said quietly, blushing. He tried to hurry into his fresh knickers and not jiggle anything too much on the way. “I should’ve told you I was changing. And I’m done now, anyway. Pass me that? The ugly one with Quark’s face on the back.”

Garak picked up the ghastly baseball tee, appalled by the pilling on the cotton. He passed it over regardless. The quirk of disgust faded from his upper lip as Julian pulled the shirt over his head and sighed; the shirt was supple, cool-warm at all times, and comforting to wear. Garak didn’t seem to mind it so much now.

“Your turn,” Julian said playfully. “Take _your_ underwear off if you like. Then we’ll be even.”

Garak gave him a dull stare, which proved he knew Julian was joking. Even so, he unzipped his tunic from under one arm and remained blatantly in Julian’s view while undressing.

Julian turned away to arrange pillows when Garak bowed down to pull off his boots and stockings, but he still simmered with heat, listening to Garak folding up his clothes and setting them aside.

“Doctor...?”

Julian’s ears burned. “You don’t _have_ to,” he said to the bed, afraid to turn around. “I really don’t mind you seeing, Garak. A body’s a body. You don’t need to return the favour. I mean, unless you really _wanted_ me to look, that’s another matter. Did... you? Want me to look? Because I would if you wanted! I just didn’t think—”

Garak chuckled jauntily. “That wasn’t what I had in mind, doctor. I only meant to ask a question.”

Julian turned and cooled all over – disappointment? _no_! relief, definitely – because he found Garak in underwear just like last night, but this time it was purple-lilac. The colour suited him.

“Ask away, old chap,” Julian smiled.

Garak pulled something small out of his overnight bag, looking at Julian as he did. “Does your... ‘tummy’... still cause you pain?”

“I try not to pay it too much attention. It’s not overwhelming, or anything, and it’s nothing to worry about – it’s all the growing I’m doing, see. Skin’s always stretching. Dermal regenerator’s been a great help but—”

“So!” Garak shut him up with a word. “That is a yes.”

“...Yes.”

“Then I brought you this.” Garak handed over a small black bottle with a bulbous, round cap, unlabelled but for a square-block Cardassian phrase in white calligraphy, which the Universal Translator couldn’t understand. “It’s a Cardassian massage oil. I’ve had it lying around since the days of the Occupation and remembered it only last night. There’s no better product for muscular or dermal irritation, I assure you. And I find the aroma quite soothing.”

“Oh!” Julian beamed at the little bottle. “Excellent. You can massage this on me while we cuddle, then.” He handed Garak back the bottle and turned to crawl into bed. “Go brush your teeth and whatnot, I’ll be here.”

Garak stared at Julian for a bit, lips parted, and remained in place even once Julian got comfy and smiled back. Only when Julian flapped a set of fingers to shoo him did Garak come to his senses. He flustered for a moment, as if remembering where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He put down the bottle and fetched that bag of supplies the O’Briens had given him.

He glanced at Julian once more as he left. Julian was sure he saw the start of a huge smile as Garak fled the room.

  
★  


Once Garak returned, hair combed and face moisturised, Julian leaned forward and shuffled away from the headboard, expecting Garak behind him.

Garak picked up the massage oil and crawled close, tentatively, gaze soft on Julian’s. “You’d like me... here, would you?”

Julian nodded, keeping himself steady as Garak parked himself behind Julian’s lower back, thighs parted around his waist. Oh, Julian had forgotten how hot and thick those thighs were. No hair, just smooth scales. Julian half-wondered if Garak had somehow... _polished_ his scales since last night. They seemed sleeker, brighter, shinier...? Surely not...

Julian sighed in delight as Garak guided him to rest back, and his weight was immediately supported by the plush solidity of Garak’s body. Pain wafted away from Julian’s mid-back within seconds, soothed by Cardassian heat.

With a smile, Julian reached over the bed and picked up Kukalaka, hugging his beloved bear under his chin. “Hmmmm,” he sighed, as a subtle euphoria began to thrum in his chest. He lay his head back over Garak’s left shoulder, eyes shut, taking deep breaths.

Garak held Julian for a while, unmoving. Julian got the feeling Garak was watching and feeling him breathe.

“Are you relaxed?” Garak asked, the softest rumble of a voice against Julian’s cheek. “Shall I begin?”

“Hmm, please,” Julian exhaled. “I’m just _serene_.”

Garak hummed a little laugh. “May I pull your shirt up?”

Julian nodded. “Mm-hm.”

He felt tingles dance through his belly and chest as Garak’s fingers scrolled up the t-shirt, settling the cloth neatly at the top of his bump, tucked below Kukalaka. Now Julian’s midriff felt, hm, not _cold_ , but vulnerable to the air, to every tiny gush of moving breath that curled down from Garak’s nose and mouth.

“A little of this...” Garak’s voice was just so _deep_ when it came from so close by. Julian’s spine ran down with static at the rumble behind him. “I’ll put it on my hand and rub it in so it won’t be cold.”

“Okay.” Julian put a kiss on Kukalaka’s head, then went back to resting on Garak.

He sucked in a gasp as Garak touched him. Electricity zapped toes to scalp; his back arched, and his hands tensed around Kukalaka. Julian started to pant, whimpering, as Garak hushed him, slow exhales of “Shhhhhhh” coming past Julian’s right ear.

Julian’s vocal exhales began to settle as he got used to the feeling of a hand moving on him so sleekly. He blinked his eyes open slowly, looking down, astonished to see nothing more intense than a grey hand swirling in little circles, leaving behind a clear, glossy trail on brown skin.

Relaxing properly now, Julian lay his head back and snuggled his nose into Garak’s neck, letting go of a huge sigh of relief. Garak of course chuckled; he’d no doubt been waiting to hear that sound. Julian smirked.

Oh, the way Garak moved... He was taking his time, circling, spreading the oil, feeling his way around the bump, making his way slowly towards Julian’s navel. As Garak stroked, sensations erupted inside Julian. Good feelings – like distant, tiny fireworks bursting across a cityscape over the course of five or six moments, or perhaps a rush of a summer breeze through a field. Spectacular, sparkling feelings, _inside_ him. Real, physical: not imagined, nor caused by emotion.

Helplessly, Julian let out a tiny hum of pleasure – but his lips parted halfway through, turning a hum into a moan. His breath hitched after.

“Sorry,” he begged quietly. “Didn’t mean to get all weird about this.”

Garak didn’t even laugh, just shook his head against Julian’s, nuzzling his forehead. “Enjoy it, doctor. Relax. It’s meant to feel good.”

Well, that was a relief, anyway. Julian let another hum go, smiling. The oil smelled like jasmine.

  
  


“Elim?”

“Hm!” A smiley noise.

“Can I call you ‘Elim’?”

“You can indeed.”

Julian bit his bottom lip, trying to delay his confession. But, here it was: “I, um. I just wanted to tell you... that before we started... doing this? When we didn’t really touch much. I know there were – God, I’ll sound so selfish saying this – there were people... around me, all the time, doing nothing but _doting_ on me. All day. Every day. But.” Julian swallowed, tucking his chin into Kukalaka’s fluff. “I don’t know... I felt a bit lonely. Or a lot lonely, really. And I’ve _hated_ being pregnant. A-h-and—”

His voice stumbled for some reason, emotion catching in his throat as he confessed, “And the thing is, I don’t anymore. What you’re doing— What you’re doing with me, what you’re doing now, with y-your hand— ah—” He shivered, his own hand dropping to hold Garak’s as it moved. “Feels good.”

Julian pondered the feeling, then he decided he really needed to say something aloud, so out it came: “It just feels so _relieving_! To be touched and hugged and held and— And you don’t ever pull away from me, and it’s almost like you want it as much as I do. _God_ , Garak, it’s amazing. Thank you. Thank you...”

Garak shut his eyes and pressed his eyelashes to Julian’s temple, breathing out there. “I suspect it won’t be a surprise to hear, but I do indeed crave physical contact... perhaps as intensely you do. Life on this station for an exiled Cardassian lends itself to being incredibly solitary, to say the least. To be offered ample opportunities to give and receive affection with someone I— Ahhh. Let’s just say the feeling is quite mutual, my dear doctor. Quite, _quite_ mutual.”

Julian exhaled, dewy-eyed and smiling. “You’re making this so much easier for me, I hope you realise that. Being pregnant. Frankly, you’re making it _nice_.”

“As per my intentions,” Garak smiled against Julian’s jaw. His hand slid lower, pulling tension out of Julian’s hips as he circled the left side of his belly over and over.

Julian moaned again, legs squirming in the bed so his heels dug in and pushed him a little closer to Garak. Julian still followed his touches with his own hand, but let that hand rise back to Kukalaka now, clinging on.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Julian said.

“Certainly. But only if you don’t place too high a value on hearing the truth for the answer.”

Julian snorted. “You wouldn’t have to lie. It’s personal, but it’s not like you’d be any worse off for answering truthfully.”

When Garak hummed a curious note, Julian turned his eyes to the cloth spilling from the ceiling.

“Have you ever thought about having children?”

Apparently it wasn’t as heart-stopping a question as Julian thought it was, as Garak didn’t seem remotely shaken, and didn’t even think before answering, “Hm! Obviously I have. Blood ties and large, successful families are the pillars of Cardassian society, doctor. Even exiled, I can’t imagine what kind of traitor to my people I’d have to be if I overlooked the option entirely. Yes, I think about starting a family.”

“‘Think’... present tense? Not something you thought about in the past.”

“I still fantasise I could have such a life, yes. Perhaps if the future plays out favourably for me, I shall.”

Julian thought about that, finding Garak’s comfort with the subject to be assuring to his own anxiety-riddled suppositions about his own life.

He let Garak’s smoothing hand train him into an easygoing state of mind – and only then, when his worries over talking about these things were all stroked calm, did he finally admit, “I never planned on being a parent.”

“Mm. I recall you said you never planned on... ‘using’ your body in this way.”

Julian gulped. “I mean either way. Carrying or... fertilising. Neither. I was—” His breath caught, but he forced it out. “I was a slow developer as a child. Mentally overwhelmed. Physically uncoordinated. Almost entirely nonverbal. Emphasis on ‘ _was_ ’ – before my parents took it upon themselves to ‘fix’ me.” The bitterness sat in every word; there was no concealing it.

“Fix...” Garak kept stroking, but his rhythm became irregular as he grew distracted. “Were you sick?”

“Sick?” Julian scoffed, eyes darting to the private drapes of the fort that he and Garak hid inside. Secrets were safe here. “No, I wasn’t sick. I was... neuro-atypical. And they didn’t like it. I wasn’t like the other children. My existence disappointed them constantly.”

Garak did pause there, considering the burden that statement carried. But he began to massage again, and gave Julian an assuring squeeze with his free hand and both bracketing thighs. “I can’t imagine what it was they did to you, if indeed something was ‘done’. Especially since you’re still very much neuro-atypical.”

“What?” Julian looked back at Garak, not quite able to meet his eyes. “No, I’m nothing like how I was back then.”

“Perhaps not,” Garak said placatingly. “But I’ve never once met anyone who thinks or behaves as you do. Your mind is exceptional, doctor. In literal terms, you have an atypical neurology. Thereby, you _are_ neuro-atypical. Still.”

Julian relaxed, facing forward again. He rubbed Kukalaka’s fur on his chin, wondering if Garak was more right than he even realised. That felt like a good thing.

“Anyway,” Julian said as the good feeling ran its course and ebbed away. “Any biological child of mine is likely to be at a massive statistical disadvantage next to peers of a similar age, and would need intense care and support... perhaps lifelong. And I hate knowing it, but I don’t think I’m prepared to give up everything in my life to provide that. I’m just not. I’d be lying if I said I wanted that for me _or_ my child. And if I’m not able to provide what they need, I really have a moral responsibility _not_ to have children.” He swallowed, and his heart jolted as he realised: “At least... not alone...? Maybe if I had support...?”

His heart twinkled at that thought.

Julian checked that Garak was still listening, then he added in a big emotional rush: “Besides, I don’t think it’s fair to _any_ child to purposefully bring them into a world where someone – _anyone_ , parent or otherwise – would treat them like they need to be changed in order to be loved. Humans did away with the cruel stigmas and practices surrounding intersex children centuries ago. But _this_? People assume this kind of ableism died out too, but it survived in both my parents. And I am terrified – _terrified_ – that like them, I’ll look at my own child and wish they were something else.”

Garak gave a low, assuring drone. “That, dear Julian, is not something I imagine is in your nature.”

“You’d be surprised, Garak,” Julian said. “Community and societal influence is one thing, but ultimately everything always comes down to DNA. If I can hate _myself_ so much – past self or present self – the moment I see the shadow of a similar trait reflected in my child— Oh, I’d make a despicable parent. I can’t trust myself to be any better than my own were, even if I do the exact opposite things.”

He settled into a glum silence. He was lifted out of it only by the continued hush of Garak’s hand circling his belly, going all the way around it now.

“It’s funny,” Julian mused, “but now I both _am_ and _aren’t_ a parent. I suppose this is for the best, isn’t it? I deliver little Juyoshi to the world, but he’s not... mm...”

Garak stopped stroking as he felt Julian start to shake.

“Oh, Julian. Shhhh.” Garak rocked him softly, side-to-side. “My dear, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Julian shook his head, sniffing, getting his emotions under control. He cuddled Kukalaka and snuggled into Garak’s heat.

Garak began to massage again.

With some surprise, Julian explained, “I guess I’m sad I won’t get to keep the baby.”

He looked up in astonishment, blinking hard, as his eyes began to feel heavy with fatigue. “My God,” he uttered. “Is that why I’ve been such a mess these last months? I unconsciously _want_ —?” A breath of laughter burst out, a tired stare wandering the fort above them. “I want to be a parent. I _want_ to be a parent.”

Garak definitely smiled. “It’s not impossible, doctor. The future is wide open.”

“Hmm.” Julian started to smile, suddenly enlivened and yet soothed towards sleep by the idea. He wouldn’t be ‘giving up’ anything if he really wanted to care for a child, would he? Until now he’d imagined having a disabled child would mean the destruction of the life he knew – but all at once, the realisation that he would _love_ the child changed everything. His love would be unconditional. The child would not be unwanted, or a burden, the way he himself was to his parents. Julian would devote _his_ life and change everything about the way _he_ lived to make his offspring’s treasured existence better and more fulfilling than his own.

And it would be so much easier if he had someone by his side...

“I wonder who the other father would be,” Julian said, dazedly lost in sleepy daydreams of a queer little family forever bound on a journey across the universe, raised comfortably on a Starship. Or perhaps they’d settle in a cute cottage in some gorgeous alien realm where there was a mighty world to explore and privacy and a community brimming with love...

“The other _father_?” Garak tilted his head. “Why, I’m surprised, doctor. I’d thought... given your usual sexual preferences, and your vehement dislike of carrying an unborn child, you’d much rather reproduce with a woman.”

Julian felt a hot and molten surprise descend over his head and pour down his shoulders. “Oh.” He blinked a few tired blinks and yawned at length, sniffing as he sank down. “I forgot I cuhh... F’rgot I could do that.”

“Tired, doctor?” Garak smiled. “Sleep. I’ll be here.”

“Hmm.” Julian snuggled his bear, then snuggled his Garak. “Elim?”

“Mm.”

Julian dragged in a deep, muggy breath, and let it go slowly. His vision had grown dark, and he felt all warm and happy. “Stay? ‘N sleep with me every night. Please.”

Garak’s voice sounded rich with sentiment as he promised, “Ohhh, doctor. For as long as you want me, I shall.”

Julian was too close to sleep to be sure, but he imagined, vaguely, that Garak kissed his cheek. A slow kiss. A chaste kiss. But by the time Julian tried to pay attention, it had stopped, so he wasn’t sure – and then he fell asleep.

  
★  



	8. Julian Leaves His Last Remaining Brain Cell in Charge (A Mistake)

The bustle of Quark’s bar in the late afternoon was intimately familiar to Julian. He knew the voices; he knew the casual clicking of the dabo wheel and the eruptive cheer that followed its silence; he knew the clack of trays hitting tables and the clink of glasses topping the trays; he knew the laugh of the beautiful woman who stood amongst it all, spinning the wheel, filling the trays, keeping people talking.

Yet, as proximate as it all felt, the vibrant atmosphere remained outside of him, buzzing at his edges like acid rain on the doorstep, as there was too much going on inside for him to allow the ambience to breach his bubble.

He sipped his hot chocolate and kept his eyes on the shelves behind the bar.

One week.

One week to go, and his life would be different forever.

He was going to be an _uncle_. A father? A mother? A parent, a co-parent? A concerned bystander? He didn’t know. But the baby was coming, and as professionally prepared as he knew everyone around him was, he himself was embroiled in uncertainty.

It wasn’t just the fact he’d have to _give birth_ that he couldn’t get his head around. What was he going to do afterwards? Keiko would be breastfeeding. Miles would be changing diapers. Julian would be back at work, because he refused to stop going to work for anything less than actually pushing a baby out of him. But did he want to work because he didn’t _have_ another purpose, or because he didn’t _want_ one?

Potentially things could return to normal. The baby bump would go down once he got back to tennis, and he could go out dating again. New partners might never need to know he’d carried a child for six months.

Perhaps that was a bit distasteful, however. Certain people – Julian, namely – viewed childbearing as a sign of maturity, and if he returned afterwards to... well, sleeping around... that was a step back, no?

Or maybe that was all backwards, ancient thinking. Clearly he’d spent too long poring over those 1960s magazines Garak kept giving him.

Maybe he didn’t need to wait for the bump to go down before he started dating! If what he mumbled to Garak the other night still rang true by the time this was over, and Julian _did_ want a family, then why wait? He was in his physical and mental prime, supposedly. What better time to breed?

Checking in with himself once more, nose in his hot chocolate mug, he confirmed: yes, he wanted a family. He wanted something stable. Long-lasting. He wanted what Miles had with Keiko.

So now he just had to find his woman.

That darling laugh carried over from the dabo table, and her existence rang in Julian’s mind like a bell. He turned his head, and there was Leeta, all buxom curves, a cocked-out hip, and a wide grin directed to some other man who craned over the dabo wheel.

Oh, how Julian missed her. Less now, admittedly, since Garak had started sharing his bed, but Julian missed her laugh and her mischievous streak as much as he missed the comfort that he’d felt throughout the handful of months they’d dated.

He enjoyed one-night-stands with multiple random people, but there was something about consciously practising fidelity and enjoying a mutually supportive relationship that was equally sexy to him, if not more so. If he was only going to sleep with one woman for the rest of his life... raising a family with her... he wouldn’t mind it being Leeta.

Julian gulped down a bit more of his hot chocolate then slid off his stool, ready to approach her. An odd sense of deja-vu skated through him as he crossed the pit, but it was noticeably skewed from any reality he’d lived once or a hundred times before. Usually when he approached girlfriends in the bar, he wasn’t nine months pregnant.

Leeta saw Julian coming towards her, and her expression changed: her grin slipped to a more easygoing smile. She quickly turned to a fellow girl and muttered something, and her yellow-skinned, tail-headed alien associate moved to take her place at the wheel.

Leeta shifted off the dais with the side of her hip moving first, translucent fabric trailing after her steps as she came up to Julian and met him halfway across the pit, taking both hands.

“Hey, you,” she said, kissing his cheek. “It’s gotta be soon, huh. You look ready to _burst_.”

“Due date’s in a week,” Julian nodded. “Do you – mind if we sit down? I’d like to talk to you.”

Leeta seemed surprised, but nodded. “I’ll take my break now.”

“You get breaks?” Julian grinned. “Gosh, Rom’s little union revolution really paid off, didn’t it?”

“I get _a_ break,” Leeta rolled her eyes. “Unpaid. Ten minutes. Come on, better make it count.”

“Oh— I can talk to you after your shift ends; it’s not urgent. Well, it is. But nothing that can’t wait another few hours. I didn’t come here to waste your time.”

“Aw, forget it; I need to sit down anyway.” Leeta helped Julian up the single step into what passed for a private booth; the jaunty poles that ran from the lower to upper levels provided a separator between this shadow-drowned table and the greedy red-yellow lights that lit the rest of the place. “Do you want a top-up? What are you drinking? Ugh, it’s cold. Rom— Rom!”

Rom hurried past with a repair part in a hand protected by a dirty rag, but halted when he heard Leeta call for him. He turned on the spot and hurried up to her, eyes gleaming.

“Aaaaaaaaah, hello.... Leeta,” Rom mumbled, eyes and head down. His eyes flashed up to look at her, then down again. “Wh-wh-what can I do for you?”

Leeta leaned over the table and took the repair part and the rag out of Rom’s hands. She gave the little Ferengi her best and kindest smile. “Could you get Julian here a refill of _hot_ chocolate? And a water for me.”

“Aaaaah, hot chocolate, water; got it.” Rom gave Leeta a lovesick look that chilled Julian to his core. “Mmmm, _berightback_.” He took Julian’s mug and ran off.

Julian leaned back in the booth’s long seat that he and Leeta shared. “ _He_ likes you.”

“Ohhh, no,” Leeta said dismissively, eyes darting away as she flapped a hand. But she glanced after Rom and smiled. “Wait, do you really think so? He’d tell me if he liked me. Wouldn’t he? No, he would. Rom’s just like that with everyone.”

Julian swallowed, now second-guessing what he was going to say. If Leeta had moved on, he didn’t want to drag her back...

Leeta, however, picked up on his reticence and was having none of it: she leaned towards him, twisting on the leather-like seat to face him and take both his hands in hers. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Ahh.” Julian covered his mouth with a palm, and ran his hand down until it dropped off his chin and he could suck in a breath. “You don’t have much time, so I’ll get right to the point. Sorry if this... sounds abrupt. The thing is—”

He exhaled, readying himself. “I know that you and I did the rite of separation at my request. I know that was my choice. And I think it _was_ the right choice, because, well... this pregnancy coming out of nowhere was a _lot_ – for me, first of all. From my perspective... you seemed to handle it surprisingly well, and your support really-really helped me. It did; it still does. But when I moved in with Miles and Keiko – hah – it became... very obvious, very quickly, that such a big change was a bit overwhelming for you, too. Everything just fell apart, then, didn’t it?”

Leeta lowered her eyes in shame.

Julian grabbed for her arm, softly remaking eye contact. “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t be. It was okay. Us breaking up made sense to both of us... didn’t it?” He nodded when Leeta nodded. “See. And we’re still friends. Great friends.”

Leeta queried, “What’s this about?”

Julian let his eyes rise, lips parting as he let out a slightly desperate thinking noise. “Well—?”

His expression blanked when Rom came up to their table, putting down a steaming hot chocolate and a glass of water for Leeta.

“Aaaanything else... Leeta?” Rom asked, looking at Leeta and not Julian.

Leeta reached to touch Rom’s hand, and the poor Ferengi looked like he might keel over. “That’s all, Rom. Thank you so _much_ , sweetie.”

“Anytime... Leeta.” Rom gave a soppy, janky-toothed smile, then took his repair part and dirty rag and scuttled off, more of a bounce in his step than before.

Julian held his hot drink close and let it warm his chin, but his eyes followed Rom as he went up to the bar and then behind it. Quark started to yell at him, and Rom just smiled, happy as anything.

By this point Julian was fifth- and sixth-guessing airing his request to Leeta. Did he have any right? The answer was clearly no. He’d missed his opportunity at the hands of fate. But still. Even if he asked, the answer was _Leeta’s_ to give. She couldn’t make a choice unless she’d heard all the options laid bare, right?

As Julian spent too long taking breaths and not using them to speak, Leeta began to smile, and said, “Are you going to ask if we could get back together?”

Julian’s eyes darted to hers. “Um. Not... exactly. Well, sort of. Yes, technically. But no.” He thunked his forehead against the lip of his mug. “Sorry. I swear I used to be coherent.” He lifted his head when his forehead started getting steamy. “The fact is... this pregnancy has made me realise something. Quite recently, actually. I want to start a family. Have children of my own.”

Leeta’s lips parted, and her eyebrows rose. “You do?” She leaned closer, eyes wide. “Who’s the father going to be? Do you know?”

Julian blushed, almost laughing. “That’s the thing. I don’t think I’d want to carry the baby myself. This whole thing has been... horrible, really. Despite everyone’s efforts to help me through it. And as far as I’m concerned, the worst is yet to come.” He swallowed and sipped his drink, determined not to think about his due date. “Garak reminded me that, if I wanted to, I could... hhhhhave a baby with a woman...?”

Leeta looked blank. Then she drew back in shock. “Wait, and you want _me_ to—”

“I’m not saying we _have_ to get back together,” Julian said hurriedly, eyes darting to Rom then back down to the table. “I just thought, maybe, after this baby’s out of me and I’ve had some time to recover, you might consider...?”

“Being your surrogate.”

“Www.” Julian’s lips rounded around a non-sound. “Uhm.”

Where the hell did this go so wrong? Three minutes ago he’d been ready to ask Leeta to marry him, basically, and now he would settle for putting her through this very specific brand of hell that he wouldn’t wish on himself a second time? What in God’s name was in his head? And why was it leaving his head ten times worse than how it went in?

“Ih-Ih-Ih-It’s just, I know you wanted a family at some point too,” Julian said, trying to rescue himself, realising as words exited his mouth that each one was making this situation harder to navigate. “And if being with Miles and Keiko has proven to me anything, it’s that you really can have those family bonds with people who aren’t related by blood or marriage. I think it could work, you know? You and me and a baby. A-a-and whoever you’re dating. If you’re dating someone.” He shrugged at Leeta hopefully, while screaming internally. His brain-to-mouth pathway was broken, officially.

The absolute worst part of this was that Leeta actually seemed interested. She held her glass of water and stroked condensation with a thumb, back and forth, back and forth, thinking.

Julian did not wake up this morning imagining that the remainder of his life would be spent caring for a likely nonverbal autistic child while being part of a platonic polyamorous relationship that somehow included his ex-girlfriend and a stuttering Ferengi repairman. But that was how his day was going. He made a mental note not to make major life decisions while pregnant. Or ever, maybe, because it wasn’t like he’d done much better when he _wasn’t_ pregnant. Dear God, he was a mess.

He needed an exit button for his life. Or at least a pause, so he could sit with his head in his hands for a while, make notes, plan the upcoming script, and then resume with a clear head.

“I think,” Leeta said as she reached across the table to stroke Julian’s hand, “maaaayyyybe we could? But we shouldn’t rush into this all at once; it’s _definitely_ too soon for you. Let’s just start with a drink.” She smiled and clinked her glass to Julian’s mug. “And when things have settled... we’ll talk this over again.”

Julian exhaled, glad she’d given him some leeway.

“Where did this all come from, anyway?” Leeta asked, more casually. She sipped her drink, then nosed towards him. “What made you change your mind about having babies? Last I mentioned it, you gave a _very_ firm ‘no’.”

Julian shrugged. “Garak and I were cuddling the other night, and he was rubbing ointment on for me... It’s great stuff, by the way, that massage oil he has—? Cardassian something-or-other. Would work wonders for those neckaches of yours. Anyway, we were talking, and I just... I felt a bit down about the fact I don’t get to keep the baby at the end of this. And Garak reminded me that I could, potentially, have a family of my own, and... you were the first person I thought of. Well,” Julian amended, “the first woman, in any case.”

Leeta seemed a little baffled. “You were... cuddling Garak?”

“Mm.” Julian nodded as he sipped his hot chocolate. “He’s been wonderful, actually. He’s started playing with my hair the way you used to. He cut it for me, too, if you’d believe that! I thought he was going to stab me with the scissors every two minutes, and Keiko nearly called security because of how much of a racket we were making, arguing in her bathroom, but... it came out okay, didn’t it? He’s such a perfectionist. It’s _infuriating._ ” He said this with a heart full of bubbles and a huge smile. He started to rock side-to-side, then hurriedly stopped, wondering why he did that. He never used to rock.

Leeta inched closer, uncertainly. “So... you and Garak... You’re... together?”

“Oh! No-no.” Julian shrugged his lower lip up. “Not like you and me were. But it’s been nice. Having someone in the bed again.” His smile widened, and he lowered his face to try and hide it, since it wouldn’t stop. Oh, God, what was _this_ , now? Why was he getting all gooey over that old crocodile? The screws were really rattling around loose in his head today, weren’t they?

“Huh,” Leeta said.

What? What did he say? Leeta was looking at Julian like he’d said something amazing. Like he’d said he was in _love_ with Garak, or something. But that wasn’t what he’d said. It wasn’t even true.

They were just casual! Casual friends! With cuddles! And, okay, there was the occasional urge to try an experimental slow kiss on the lips – or a passing wish that Garak would slip his massaging hand higher up Julian’s thighs or lower on his belly – or a flash of arousal because Garak’s thigh pressed a little too high between his own – and there _was_ that one time last night Julian had mumbled something half-asleep about how Garak would be his ideal husband—

Julian plunged into a new set of worries: did Leeta see something he didn’t, the way Julian noticed Rom’s attention and Leeta didn’t seem to recognise it? Then again, Julian did see it; he knew there was something between himself and Garak—

Dammit, he’d known for years and he was _ignoring it_ , on purpose. This wasn’t the time to be reminded! Bad! He couldn’t fall in love with another man right when he wanted a baby! He’d end up carrying the thing himself all over again, and if there was any point to this god-awful conversation with Leeta, it was that he Did Not Want To Carry A Child Again.

Besides. Besides! Even if Julian did have a crush, or even if he was a little bit a lot completely in love with Garak, it meant nothing if Garak didn’t feel the same way. Elim was just helping with the pregnancy. Like a good friend. The way Leeta would consider carrying a baby for Julian. The way Julian put his life on the line to save Miles and Keiko’s baby. People did these things out of love! And even if Julian was also kind of in love with Miles, and Leeta had previously been in love with Julian, it didn’t count because—

Oh...

They were doing this out of _love_. Romantic love, perhaps.

So did that mean...?

Leeta still loved him...?

Julian looked at her with a softening smile. He admired her short, choppy waves of hair, bronze in the low light; those cute little Bajoran nose ridges...

She noticed he was watching her, and turned away from the bar’s interests to watch him too.

“What?” she asked, voice warm. Her eyes sparkled with a smile. “You look like you just had one of your ‘eureka’ moments.”

Julian tilted his head, holding her gaze. “Maybe I did.”

“And? What was it?”

“Do you still love me?” he asked. Suddenly he felt properly suave again. Funny how he was so much better at this when he wasn’t the one floundering in feelings.

Leeta’s eyes lowered, and she laughed on a breath. “I still care about you, Julian. And obviously I _love_ you,” she added, meeting his eyes. “I’ll always _love_ you.”

A breath slipped out of Julian. Finally. Things were under control again. He’d have the baby and get back together with Leeta and resume his former life where he left off. It would be like having a baby never even happened.

This was a major life decision that made total sense to him, and being pregnant and generally a mess most certainly was not impacting his choice in this moment, because he was absolutely, completely sure that as he leaned in to kiss Leeta that it was the correct, right, and sensible thing to do.

Her lips tasted of her fruity rust-red lipstick, her breath like springwine. She breathed hot on his cheek, and her hand cupped his other cheek, tilting his head...

Julian hummed, falling into the patterns of his younger self: he became the Julian Bashir who knew how to kiss – soft lips? why so soft? – and knew where to put his hands on a woman’s waist – tiny waist! so tiny! surely that wasn’t safe – and shuffled closer to push into the contact – why didn’t she push back? why didn’t she hold the back of his head now? – and he hummed a note of pleasure – why didn’t it feel genuine? why was her response so high-pitched? – and he sighed, waiting for pressure, waiting for Garak’s touch...

He broke the kiss, wet-lipped and disappointed. He looked at Leeta’s smile and hated himself for putting it there. He’d stolen Rom’s kiss.

A sudden shift of movement behind Leeta’s head caught his peripheral attention, and for about three milliseconds Julian thought he and Leeta had been caught in the act by Rom, so the figure’s devastated body language made sense. But then Julian’s eyes actually moved, and his heart damn near stopped when he saw Garak there, holding a mug lopsidedly, threatening to spill its contents. His expression was one of acute heartbreak.

Garak lowered his eyes then turned and left, leaving the mug on a table as he exited the bar.

Julian’s breath jammed in his throat, worked loose only by a tiny sound of anguish.

“What?” Leeta held his hands, eyes searching Julian’s quickly. “Julian, what’s wrong?” She looked back over her shoulder, but Garak had already left.

Julian stared back at her. “I— I’m sorry,” he said, hearing his astounded tone. She met his eyes, and he told her, “I think I’m in a relationship with someone else.”

He shifted along the seat and surged to his feet with his hand on the table for support. Heart hammering, skin washed with chills then fire with each intermittent breath, he hobbled out of the booth and towards the exit to chase Garak.

But Garak was long-gone by the time Julian made it to the door. Julian couldn’t win a race against a Tarkalean mountain snail like this.

Shit.

Shit shit shit _shit_.

It was mutual. It was _mutual_.

Julian couldn’t have _asked_? _Garak, are you sleeping with me because you’re touch-starved or because you love me?_ Just once? He could’ve asked, and then he wouldn’t have hurt Leeta or Rom or Garak, or _himself_. Because ohhh, this hurt. This _hurt_. Ow.

“Gaah—” Julian clutched his middle, grunting as he leaned against the bar’s doorway. “Ow. Ow.” He tipped his head back. “Ow-ow-ow-ow—”

Contractions.

Leeta came up to him, holding his arm. He breathed through the searing, squashing pain that tore through his insides, fighting back tears all the while.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the right time.

He may not know a damn thing about people, or his own heart, clearly, but he knew his body. This wasn’t the right time.

“False labour,” he decided within a minute, after he’d paced up and down a little bit and the pain stopped. “I moved too quickly.” He let out a huff of relief.

Leeta squeezed his arm. “Do I need to get you to the Infirmary? I know you hate being a patient, but Nurse Jabara _always_ knows what to do with you. I don’t think this is the kind of thing you should brush off.”

Julian chuckled. “Chief Medical Officer’s already taken a look,” he said with a sideways smile. “Patient’s fine. I’ve had these for months; they never last.”

Leeta managed an unsure smile. “Julian... what’s going on?”

Julian stared down the Promenade, unable to even guess which direction Garak went. People passed and paraded through every line of sight.

He swallowed and looked at Leeta in sorrow. “I think I might’ve just made the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

  
★  


The last thing Julian expected when he got home that evening was to open the door and find Garak setting up for dinner with Molly O’Brien, folding napkins into origami riding hounds while she laid out the cutlery.

But here he was. Folding napkins into origami riding hounds while Molly laid out the cutlery.

“Garak,” Julian breathed, still standing in the doorway.

“Ah, doctor!” Garak seemed as cheerful as ever. “Come, wash your hands and face; we’re ready to serve. It seems Captain Sisko very kindly dropped by to deliver us a vegetarian jambalaya. He gave his apologies, but he couldn’t stay— Is something wrong? You haven’t moved an inch.”

Keiko and Miles noticed Julian’s shock now, and both halted their domestic bustling to look over. Keiko was about to hurry over, but Garak got there first.

Hands pulled Julian inside by his elbows. Garak’s gaze was steady, his blue eyes as caring as they’d always been.

Did the kiss with Leeta even happen? Or did Julian imagine the whole thing? Did he hallucinate Garak out of his desperation to see that ridged grey face before him once he broke the kiss?

“Garak,” Julian whispered, pulling back so Garak couldn’t make him take another step. Julian lifted a shaking set of fingers to touch Garak’s cheek. “Earlier...? Did you...? In the bar...”

Garak smiled sadly, but tried to make it look careless. “I didn’t think it polite to intrude on your private moment with Leeta, doctor. Apologies for leaving in such a hurry.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Julian said bravely. “I’ve said and done a lot of stupid things in my life, but I think that was quite possibly the most short-sighted, badly-thought-through—”

“Doctor.” Garak shook his head. “You needn’t explain yourself to me. Your personal relationships are none of my business.”

“No, but they are.” Julian swallowed, forcefully holding Garak’s gaze. “Why are you here tonight? Now.”

“I heard there was homemade jambalaya, and I’ve grown _quite_ sick of replicated dinners.”

Julian chuckled, but even Garak’s sneaky smile couldn’t conceal the obvious fact that the answer was a lie. “Garak. Why are you here?”

“You need me here, doctor. You’ve asked for me to be here. I promised you that I’d be here every night.”

“Why.” Julian held Garak’s cheek. “Are. You. _Here_?”

Garak’s breath hitched: the first sign Julian was on the right track. “I want to be here, doctor.”

“Why?”

Garak shook his head and slyly reprimanded, “You ask as if you already know the answer.”

“I won’t know the answer until you tell me. Why are you here?”

“I’m here because—” Garak tipped his face down, eyes lowering. “I make it my business to—”

He swallowed.

“Elim.” Julian stroked Garak’s cheek with a thumb, and his soul burst into ribbons of a thousand colours as Garak met his eyes, gaze full of longing. “Tell me why you came back. Please.”

“I wouldn’t dare be anywhere else,” Garak said quietly, “because you... my dear... are here.”

That was probably the closest to a love confession Julian would ever get from Elim Garak. So Julian shut his eyes and kissed him.

Garak immediately sighed in relief.

Lips parted; one strong hand took Julian’s waist, and the other flew to clutch the back of his head; heads turned, breaths rushed out hot. There was the pressure. There was the stocky waist Julian wanted. There was the low-pitched moan. There was the gush of genuine pleasure riding up through his own body, hot and cold and sparkling.

“Hmm,” Julian moaned, smooching and nuzzling then lifting away to breathe. He grinned as he opened his eyes and saw the face he actually wanted to see.

Garak looked utterly stunned.

Julian put another quick kiss on his lips, then took his hand and turned for the table. “Jambalaya, is it? Hm, smells delicious.”

Keiko and Miles beamed from where they sat at the table, waiting to start eating. Molly was well into her meal by now. She poked rice into her open mouth, apparently unfazed by the sight of Julian and Garak kissing.

Leaving behind the stunned-silent room, Julian went to wash up. He watched his smile grow in the mirror, and he thought to himself: well, for one day, maybe he’d broken even. Mistakes had been made. But what had come of it but goodness?

This was one major life decision he was pretty sure he’d played right.

Only time would tell.

And it would probably tell soon – because in one week, everything was going to change.

  
★  


This felt... oh, just perfect. More just-perfect than usual.

Julian lay in Garak’s arms at bedtime, holding his hand, their fingers laced together.

Garak breathed slowly, eyes shut, lips resting on the skin where Julian’s t-shirt collar sagged open. He’d been there for twenty minutes. It was like he was still processing the kiss of hours earlier, still testing to see how much extra affection he was allowed to give, making sure it was all for real.

It was.

And Julian was going to make sure Garak knew.

“Garak,” Julian started.

“Hm?”

Julian turned his head and put a little kiss on Garak’s temple. “Did you mean it, the other week, when I asked if you wanted a family?”

Garak nodded.

“So... when you _do_ have one...”

Garak lifted his head to meet Julian’s eyes, sensing something important was about to be said.

Julian swallowed, then asked, “Is there any chance that maybe you’d want to have that family... with _me_?”

One blink.

Garak computed.

Then he asked, “Are you offering, doctor?”

Julian nodded.

Garak’s face broke into a huge grin, and he cried out low in exaltation, nodding, kissing Julian’s cheek, then nodding some more. “Yes. Yes.” Another kiss. He began to shudder with emotion, his voice thick as he said again: “Oh, my _dear_ Julian, _yes_.”

Julian laughed softly, kissing Garak’s hand, then catching his face over his shoulder and kissing him deeply. They separated just to gaze at each other, eyes dewy, smiles shivering on their lips.

Julian’s heart pounded like a drum-beat, steady and unyielding.

He lay back on Garak’s chest, and felt his heart pounding just the same.

  
★  



	9. Energising

Garak was in the middle of jabbing his fork emphatically into his food and telling Julian about the superiority of Cardassian footwear, when he stopped in the middle of his sentence and in the middle of a chew, food in his cheek and his eyes on Julian.

Garak swallowed his mouthful. “My dear doctor,” he said quietly, leaning closer. “I don’t mean to rush you, but might I suggest we take our conversation elsewhere? To a private room, perhaps.”

Julian looked back, hard-eyed, chewing. “Why?” he demanded. “We only just sat down.”

Garak fretted, looking around to check how many people were passing by Quark’s upper level, and how many might see. Thankfully the crowds were light. He pulled the napkin from his collar and handed it to his friend. “At the very least you might consider covering your shirt.”

At first perplexed, Julian then looked down and saw the two dark streaks that had stained his tunic. “Oh, that,” he said tiredly. He put Garak’s napkin down by his plate and didn’t use it. “I’m expressing milk, Garak, it’s normal. It’s been happening for months; it just shows up more obviously on mid-toned fabric. My mistake for wearing blue. My uniform usually hides it completely.”

Garak tried not to look at the staining, but he still felt heat in his cheeks when he went back to his food.

“ _Ga_ raaak,” Julian teased. “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

“Em _barr_ assed?” Garak repeated theatrically. “Of course not, doctor. Lunchtime, two days past your due date is, I’m sure, a perfect time to be producing sustenance for your unborn child.”

Julian chuckled. Then he winced and craned back in his chair, a hand pushing into his lower back. “Hhhnng.”

“More back pain?” Garak asked. “It seems especially bad today, doesn’t it? Perhaps once we’ve eaten I can treat you to another massage.”

“That would be lovely, Garak,” Julian said, without inflection. His face screwed up as he bore with the ache.

This past week Julian had grown more and more irritable, and pain seemed to have racked up all over his body, but especially in his back and hips. Three days ago he’d actually given into his family’s demands and taken a leave of absence from work. He and Garak were currently enjoying the first meal he’d taken outside of the O’Briens’ quarters within those three days, and the doctor had insisted on coming all the way to Quark’s, since he wanted to eat on the quieter side of the second level.

Garak was also glad for the privacy, as not only was Julian lactating, but there was a good chance he’d start to cry at some point, and Garak would rather spare the good people of the Promenade another show of dramatics. Julian had had enough people staring at him with pity in recent times. Given his usually-thin figure, the baby bump was horrifically large in comparison. He could barely reach the table to eat. The strength Julian had in him was greater than that of anyone Garak had ever known: every day both the bump and his tolerance seemed to grow. But sometimes he cried. Understandably.

Garak casually got back to his lecture, veering away from the topic of footwear construction and towards the importance of pairing an outfit with the right shoes – only to pause yet again when Julian started breathing deeply, eyes tightly shut.

“Doctor?”

“Hm, carry on,” Julian said weakly, forcing a smile. “Just – nausea.”

“Can I fetch you a ginger tea—?”

“No. No.” Julian carried on breathing deeply, lips rounded, hands on his belly. “Phhooooooo. Phhoooooooo. Keep talking.”

“Hm.” Garak cleared his throat. “I— Where was I...? Ah—!”

He didn’t say another word in the end, because now Julian held his breath and gripped the table’s edge so tight it rattled and his knuckles whitened; his face was tense; his teeth clenched. In a rush, Garak got to his feet and crouched by Julian, prying his stubborn hand off the table and holding it in both his own.

“My dear. Julian. Look at me.”

Julian growled, clearly bearing with some indescribable agony. Tension suddenly released, and he breathed heavily again. His hand relaxed in Garak’s grip. There was sweat beading on his forehead; his throat was shaking. He put on a smile and looked softly at Garak. “I’m fine. Sit down, would you? You’re making a big fuss over nothing.”

“I most certainly am not,” Garak scowled. “Tell me what’s going on this instant, doctor.”

Julian tutted. “It’s just another contraction. Let’s just finish our lunch and get on with our lives, shall we?”

Garak couldn’t comprehend how the doctor could have that level of irreverence for something so major. “Y— You’re having legitimate contractions? Do you mean to say you’re in labour?”

“I have been for a day-and-a-half, Garak; it’s not as if I’m having the baby right n— Hnnnnnn.” He gripped Garak’s hand so tightly that Garak’s mouth opened in a soundless yell. Yet he forced himself to remain still, holding Julian in return, wishing him less pain. The doctor was tense in his chair, legs shaking, tipping the table with his other hand, making their lunch plates slide away.

For what Garak counted as forty-nine seconds, Julian bore with excruciating torment in absolute silence, then he sighed and tipped his head back in relief, taking careful breaths.

“Doctor,” Garak said warily, extricating his throbbing, half-numb hand, and working a fist open and closed, “from what I understand about Human childbirth, once the contractions are a few _minutes_ apart, or last a certain amount of t—”

Julian wheezed in pain, head back, hands clawing wildly to snatch back Garak’s hand. They both held on while Julian sank down in his chair and spread his legs, heaving such a _shudder_ out of his lungs through gritted teeth that it became evident that he was desperately trying not to scream aloud.

Garak wondered why the imbecile insisted on pretending this wasn’t happening. “Doctor,” Garak said, kissing Julian’s hand, “like it or not, your baby is coming. _Now_ , by the looks of things. Do excuse me.”

He reached up and tapped the combadge clipped to Julian’s tunic. “Bashir to Infirmary,” Garak said.

Nurse Jabara replied, “ _Jabara here._ ”

“Two for emergency transport,” Garak said. “Julian’s about to deliver.”

“No,” Julian whispered. He shook his head, then squirmed in place, breathless. “No, I don’t want to.”

Garak soothed him with another kiss on his hand. “I’ll be with you, doctor. I’ll call your family.”

Julian shook his head. “No. No. I’m not ready. It’s not going to work. I don’t want—”

“ _Ready to transport._ ”

Garak gave Julian’s hand an assuring squish. “Energise.”

“No!”

Garak felt himself become weightless and bright; swirling light filled his vision; he felt no ground under him for a moment, only the tightness of Julian’s hand in his own – and then came the tap-down as he rematerialised in the middle of the Infirmary. He moved lightning-fast, sweeping his arms under Julian’s back and head, lowering him to the ground so he didn’t fall, as the chair hadn’t come with them.

“No,” Julian whispered. “No, don’t make me, don’t _make_ me,” he sobbed, shaking his head as tears spilled from his eyes and ran towards his ears. Garak knelt by him while the nurses moved around them, readying Julian to lift him onto a stretcher to move him to a bed in a private room. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, doctor,” Garak said, heart aching for him. “May I call the O’Briens? They would want to be here.”

Julian breathed hastily, but he didn’t seem to be able to answer – his eyes had focused distantly. His hand grew weaker in Garak’s grip.

“Doctor,” Garak pressed.

No response.

“Ready?” Jabara said to the other nurses. “Aaand, lift!”

Garak snatched the combadge off Julian’s tunic as the stretcher rose, and he tapped it in his hand. “Bashir to O’Brien.”

Chief O’Brien responded, “ _Garak— Oh God, I knew it. I knew it. I knew it was today. Where are you?_ ”

“Infirmary. You had better get here quickly, Chief, or there’s a chance you’ll miss it.”

“ _I’ll get— KEIKO! KEIKO, IT’S HAPPENING— Oh God oh God where’s Molly – okay – come on, sweetie, let’s go— O’Brien out—_ ”

Garak chased after the stretcher and entered a darker, smaller room, but he set aside his dread of the closed-in space and stood by the medical bed to take Julian’s hand again.

Julian was just shaking his head, whispering, “No. No. Nn-n-o,” and he didn’t respond even to a kiss on his hand.

“I’m here, my dear,” Garak said softly. He only half paid attention as the nurses took off Julian’s shoes and socks, then divested him of his stretchy trousers and soiled underwear, while Jabara gave out firm commands.

“I’ll be here the whole time, Julian,” Garak said. “You’re not alone.”

“Dilated eight centimetres,” Jabara uttered. “But I can see the baby’s head. Someone find some tape, get the jewels and sceptre out of the way. I think he’s fully dilated – oh, this is going to be painful.”

Julian wasn’t breathing. His eyes roamed the bright lights above him, looking dizzied and detached. “I don’t want to doooo th-i-hi-hiisss,” he moaned. Quietly, he mumbled, “But I— I have to. I have to. For Miles. Fffor M-m-m...” He arched his back and screamed, heels digging into the medical bed, damn near breaking every bone in Garak’s hand. Yet the sound of his soul-wrecked keening caused Garak infinitely more distress: Julian wasn’t just in pain; he was _petrified_.

“S-She’ll die,” Julian wailed. “Keiko will die if you don’t. And so will the baby. You have to. You have to.” His voice changed; he sounded calmer, but like he was talking to someone else entirely. Talking to himself. “Maybe they’ll write papers about this,” he supposed. “They’ll do _studies_. The intersex field medic who saved a baby with a damaged shuttle transporter. Come on. Deep breaths, Julian.”

“That’s right,” Garak urged, leaning close to Julian and stroking his hair. “That’s right, take deep breaths.”

“Computer,” Julian said, and the computer bleeped, “lock transporter beam on to Keiko O’Brien and—”

Jabara burst out, “Computer, belay that! Disregard all commands given by Dr. Julian Bashir until further notice, medical authorisation code Jabara seven-delta.”

Garak glanced at her. “He gave you medical authority?”

Jabara nodded once, already turning away, moving like a soldier in battle. Garak was impressed by her balance of diligence and speed. “Mr. Garak,” she said, “I’m going to need you to distract him, keep him calm. He’s having some sort of flashback; this situation’s clearly triggered the memories of when he put the baby _in_.”

Julian surely tore his throat apart with his roar of pain. He was more animal than Human in these moments; a feral look gleamed in his eyes as he blinked up at the lights.

There came a commotion from outside the room. Garak turned his head only part-way, but saw Miles and Keiko charging up, arguing with a nurse who tried to keep them back. Molly was hugged in Miles’ arms, legs dangling. Major Kira came rushing in after, reaching to hold Keiko’s arm.

“That’s us!” Miles shouted. “That’s our baby, that’s my— Julian!”

Garak looked to Jabara. “May they enter?”

“Just the parents,” Jabara said.

Garak beckoned and pointed to only Miles and Keiko. With some assuring utterances to Molly, Miles put his daughter down, leaving her hugging her toy targ next to Kira while Keiko and Miles hurried in to join Garak and Julian.

Julian was lost in a world of agony, crying non-stop, shaking violently, squirming in place so much that the three subordinate nurses were trying to decide whether to sedate or restrain him.

“Julian,” Miles breathed, hurrying to stand opposite Garak on the other side of the bed and taking Julian’s left hand. The Chief’s tearful eyes were lit with a pale blue underglow as the lights from above reflected off Julian’s clothes. “Julian, we’re here. Julian.” He glanced towards the nurses. “What’s happening? What’s wrong with him? Did you give him something?”

Keiko touched Miles’ arm. “Miles, he’s having a panic attack.”

“A rather bad one, it seems,” Garak replied, now kneeling by the bed, stroking Julian’s hand. “Doctor, you’re not on the shuttle – you’re here, with us. Just relax. Everything’s going to be all right.”

As far as lies went, that was a decent one to tell, he thought.

Julian screamed so hard his voice broke, and only air was forced from him, empty and desperate. He only half-clutched at Garak’s hand, but then, as Garak kissed and kissed and _kissed_ his hand, he started to squeeze.

“Doctor,” Garak murmured, “We’re right here. Your family’s here. You’re safe. You just need to—”

“Push.” Jabara caught Garak’s eyes. “He’s still two centimetres under-dilated, but I think he’s as open as he’s going to get; he’s going to tear. But the baby’s on its way down. Try and get him to push. Now.”

“Julian,” Miles said, leaning over Julian’s torso. “Come on, buddy, let’s get our lil’ babe outta you, huh?”

Julian vaguely turned his head towards Miles but didn’t seem to focus on him.

“Julian,” Garak said, and his heart lifted as Julian glanced his way, focusing on his nose. “Can you push? Squeeze. Squeeze.”

Julian squeezed Garak’s hand, but Garak shook his head. “Push the baby out, Julian. It’ll be over quickly. Push.”

Julian shook his head. “No. No.”

“Stop!” Jabara called. “Wait. Don’t push.” Jabara uttered something privately to her nurses, and they scattered, hurrying to prepare for something.

Nurse Jabara stood to look directly down at Julian from between his open legs, and she said, “Doctor, if you can hear and understand me, let me put this in terms you’ll understand. We’ve got a cephalopelvic disproportion down here. The pubic symphysis isn’t stretching enough to compensate. I know we said we’d give it a try, but you can’t do a natural birth.”

“What?” Miles said. “Cephalo-what? What is that?”

“His pelvis is too small to let the baby through,” Jabara replied. “Doctor, we need to do a C-section immediately, or this is going to become very dangerous for both of you.”

Julian may or may not have been listening. He was just breathing through the pain, eyes half-open, halfway rolled back in his head.

Miles had gone very pale. “You’re going to operate? Cut him open? _Again_? He already did that, he can’t— You can’t do that to him again!”

“Chief,” Jabara said, hands up to calm Miles down. “Please let us do our jobs. We’re trying to help him and your baby.”

“Miles,” Keiko said soothingly. “It’s okay. They’ll keep them both safe.”

But Miles was beside himself with agitation by now, shaking his head. “No wonder he’s panicking! He knew this was going to happen; he knows this stuff inside-out. He’s still traumatised from operating on himself last time! You can’t do this! You can’t—!”

“Sir, please leave this room. We need to operate now.”

“Miles, come _on_ ,” Keiko begged.

“There has to be another way,” Miles said. “There has to be.”

“Well, call us when you invent a new method, because right now we’re going to use the one that’s been tried and tested for thousands of years,” Jabara said, trying to shoo Miles out, stopping short of actually touching him with her gloved and bloody hands.

“Computer!” Miles shouted. “Lock transporter beam onto Julian Bashir—”

“MILES!” Keiko yelled.

“No, honey, I know what I’m doing,” Miles said. “I’m the best teleportation expert this side of the wormhole.” He looked pleadingly at the nurses, who stared back. “Look, work with me here. He put the baby _in_ with a transporter. Can’t we just... beam the baby out, without cutting him? Theoretically. What needs to come out? How long does the, the, the, uh, umbilical cord have to be?”

Jabara got on board with the plan quickly. “Our most powerful transporter beam is in the centre of the Infirmary.” She gestured to her nurses, and they glanced between themselves then hurried to move the bed Julian lay on.

Garak stood up and stepped back as the bed was shifted on wheels towards the centre of the Infirmary: the same place he and Julian had beamed in. A nurse ran to hasten another patient on their way home, then reached to pull down the shutter on the main Infirmary doors to give them privacy. Kira bent low to wrap her arms around Molly’s shoulders, guiding her outside before the doors shut.

Julian’s cries rang through the bigger room, and Garak pushed between two nurses to hold his hand again. Keiko took Julian’s other hand, and she and Garak locked eyes, nodding, knowing they could trust Miles and Jabara in combination.

“Alright,” Miles said, rubbing his chin as he paced back and forth. “Computer—” He snatched off his combadge and set it in the centre of the rectangular see-through baby crib that a nurse wheeled closer. “Lock onto my combadge. That’s the target. Now lock onto Julian Bashir. Find the second, smaller life form inside him. Lock on to that.”

“ _Unable to comply. Life form is unidentifiable due to imprecise mass._ ”

“DNA,” Keiko whispered.

Miles caught her eyes. “Computer, scan Julian Bashir for the genetic makeup of Juyoshi O’Brien. It’s on file.”

A confirming bleep. Garak’s heart rushed up to his throat in relief – for a moment, when the computer couldn’t find a life sign, he’d thought the worst.

“Computer,” Miles said, “lock on to that life form.”

Another bleep.

Miles shook his head. “I need a screen.” He rushed to the display screens at the side of the room that Julian used most often, shoved away the wheeled chair, and began reconfiguring buttons and changing the unit’s displays. Medical monitors became transporter trackers, and Miles studied them all, adjusting settings with buttons almost certainly not meant for that use.

“How much umbilical cord?” he asked again.

Jabara shook her head. “Preferably? Keep all of it, if you can separate it from the placenta. Your baby needs stem cells and blood to keep flowing in from the cord for as long as possible, but in this situation that’s a luxury. The placenta and cord are connected to each other, and the placenta’s full of the baby and Dr. Bashir’s intermingled DNA – so if you’re locking on using DNA, you’ll have to be _incredibly_ careful to only take the baby’s – no mixed DNA. The placenta’s connected to the womb with blood vessels, and removing it before it separates naturally would—”

“Cause Julian to bleed out,” Keiko finished. She nodded worriedly. She’d almost bled out herself. From what Garak understood, Julian had burned her wound shut, but the scarring had left Keiko unable to become pregnant again.

“Honey?” Miles called to Keiko. “Can you come check this? Nurse, you too.”

Keiko and Jabara hurried over.

Garak couldn’t pay them any more attention because Julian was writhing in _agony_ , blaring out helpless noises. Garak stood as close as he could, hushing Julian, stroking his sweaty hair off his face. “Stay with me, doctor. It’s going to be okay.” It was the truth this time. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’re in good hands.”

Julian shuddered and sobbed and finally met Garak’s eyes, pouring with tears, underlined with terror. “Elim,” he breathed.

“I’m right here.” Garak lifted Julian’s hand and kissed it.

Miles called over, “Ready, Julian?”

Despite everything, Julian nodded.

“You gotta stay still, alright?” Miles said gently. “Don’t move a millimetre.”

Julian swallowed and nodded. His hand groped for Garak’s, and Garak took it, both hands entwined tightly.

The other nurses stood back while Jabara waited closer, ready to spring into action. Keiko waited halfway between Julian and the repurposed computer, looking back and forth.

Miles let out a slow breath. “Here goes. Hold still, Julian. Energising.” He dragged up a slider on the touchscreen.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Garak didn’t hear the usual fizzy whirring of a transporter beam. He saw no light.

But then—!

Julian shrieked and clutched Garak’s hands tighter, legs and arms shaking with the effort of not moving anything else – the nearby crib filled with light, and muck spattered up the sides – and Julian’s middle collapsed, suddenly empty.

Vocal noise filled the Infirmary: nurses got to work helping the baby while Keiko exclaimed and ran to embrace Miles, then ran to chase the nurses. Kira soon re-entered the Infirmary and followed, holding Molly’s hand.

Jabara began to scan Julian carefully with a tricorder, and Garak hushed him as he cried, whispering loving affirmations and kissing his hands over and over.

“He’s stable,” Jabara sighed gladly, starting to smile. “The placenta should come out in a moment. I’m going to check on the baby.”

The moment she was gone, Julian broke down into racking great sobs, his whole body convulsing. He curled onto his side towards Garak, clutching at his clothes.

“Shhhh, sh-sh-sh,” Garak soothed, stroking Julian’s cheek. “It’s over, doctor. You’ve done it.”

Julian shook his head and tried to squirm closer to Garak – Garak caught him as he dropped off the edge of the bed, and held him tight, lowering himself to his knees. He cradled Julian in his arms, and Julian half sat, half lay in his embrace, weeping onto his shoulder with so much despair that Garak began to cry too, quietly, as his heart ached for Julian even though he didn’t know why.

Through the blur of tears, Garak saw Jabara nodding to Miles and Keiko, smiling. The baby was fine.

“Everything went perfectly.” Garak kissed Julian’s forehead. “Your baby’s healthy.”

Julian kept crying. Garak kept stroking his hair.

Over a few minutes, Julian tensed a few times, breath catching. Continued contractions, Garak supposed.

Soon Garak smelled the natural sweetness of the afterbirth, and inhaled, nuzzling against Julian’s neck. The warmth of the discharge bled through Julian’s rucked-up tunic folds and stained Garak’s own thigh.

Julian kept crying, even when Keiko came and knelt beside Garak.

Juyoshi O’Brien was just a mucky little red thing in Keiko’s arms, squirming and making tiny, squeaky, wailing noises.

“Hold him,” Keiko said softly. “He needs to feel your touch, Julian. He’ll know it’s you.”

But Julian was just as much a mucky, crying creature as his son. He was in no state to do anything.

“Julian,” Miles said, crouching, putting a hand on Julian’s shaking back. “What’s wrong?”

“Just overwhelmed,” Keiko said.

Garak shook his head. This was more than overwhelmed. Julian was again grieving. He’d been rescued and stolen from in a single moment.

“I’m s-sorry,” Julian breathed, pulling back from Garak’s shoulder only a little. “I’m sorry, I c— couldn’t do it...”

“What are you talking about?” Keiko shook her head, eyes wide with worry. “Julian, you did amazingly.”

“I co-h-uldn’t...”

Miles rested his forehead on Julian’s back, stroking a hand all the way down and up again. “You did it, Julian. You did. _You did_. And what you did means the world to all of us. We love you. We _love_ you, Julian. You did it.”

Garak began to rock in place, tilting Julian gently from side-to-side, at a loss for any other comfort to offer him. To his immediate astonishment, Julian calmed down within fifteen seconds. He went quiet. He lay his cheek on Garak’s shoulder. He sighed.

Garak kept rocking.

After a minute, Keiko asked again: “Do you want to hold him, Julian? He wants to meet you.”

Julian sniffled. He stirred, apparently considering it.

He swallowed and lifted his chest away from Garak’s, but he stayed safe on his lap, supported by Garak and Miles as he faced Keiko and... tentatively... opened his arms.

The joyous awe on his face was enough to make tears flood Garak’s eyes again. Julian carefully took the little naked bundle, holding a living, breathing miracle with one hand under Juyoshi’s body and the other under his head. He looked at the proof of his hard work, ingenuity, and success, utterly mesmerised. Little Juyoshi made a wet, nasal noise and clutched a tiny red hand around Julian’s thumb.

The _shake_ in Julian’s breath— And the first twitch of a smile...

Garak realised in that instant that not only was this the greatest moment in Julian’s life, but in his own, as well. He kissed Julian’s cheek and pressed his ridged forehead to his jaw, and together they looked down at the newest member of their curious little family.

Molly knelt with them and carefully draped a blanket underneath Juyoshi. With Keiko and Julian’s help, they wrapped the child, and held onto him together, all of them at once.

Julian began to sob again, but he was smiling this time. He let tears streak his face, and turned to wipe them on Garak’s cheeks, making Garak grin.

As Keiko, then Miles, then Molly gently dropped back one-by-one, sitting by just to watch, Julian cuddled their baby all to himself, and began to rock again, taking Garak with him.

  
★  



	10. Here I Am, Indeed

The sound of Julian’s relaxed laughter brought glee to Garak’s entire person, and it surely did the same for the O’Brien family, who walked behind them on the way back to their quarters. Julian tipped his head back and giggled again, bare feet kicking the air as Garak turned the corner of the hallway and headed for their doors. Julian was still unclothed from the waist down, but a medical blanket covered him for modesty.

“Oh, you need to put me down here,” Julian said, still chuckling. “Before we go inside.”

“Why?” Garak asked sweetly. “I’ve carried you this far, my dear; I can carry you all the way to the shower if you like.”

“Noo, but,” Julian said. 

Miles passed them by and opened the door, beaming. He guided Keiko and the baby inside with an open arm, then followed Molly in too. Garak remained outside for a moment longer, then moved forward.

Julian squirmed, still grinning. “No, Garak, don’t—!”

Garak chuckled to himself and carried Julian over the threshold.

“Dammit, Garak!” Julian exclaimed with a jovial sigh. “Now you’re going to have to marry me.”

“ _Marry_ you? Whatever do you mean, doctor?”

“Oh, like you don’t know,” Julian chided, still unable to get down because Garak refused to let him go. “It’s an old Human tradition. You carry your newly-wedded partner across the threshold of your home. It’s symbolic. Now I’m basically betrothed to you.”

“My-my,” Garak smiled. “If only I’d known.”

“ _Yooou_ knew,” Julian said. “Now put me down already.”

“I’m far from weary, doctor. I could hold you like this all day.”

“Uh-huh.” Julian hugged Garak’s neck, beaming at him. His eyes drifted to a distant wall as he imparted, privately, “Lovely as that sounds, dear tailor, it would make it a _bit_ hard for me to go to the bathroom.”

“Do you require assistance?”

“Do I require assistance _pooping_? No.”

“With any _other_ activity,” Garak clarified, eyes narrowed.

“I’m fine, Garak. I’ve had enough rest. Now let me go!”

Garak sighed, pretending to be sad he had to put Julian down, which of course only covered the fact he really was. “On your feet, then...” Garak carefully lowered Julian down – only for Julian to melt like his legs were Odo and the floor was Odo’s bucket. Garak clutched him before he collapsed completely, and hummed as he helped him stand again, not letting go this time.

Julian looked a little worried, now. “I— I’m fine,” he said assuringly. “Just a little wobbly.”

“You did forego the majority of your luncheon before you gave birth,” Garak reminded him. “And that was well over four hours ago. Not to mention you’ve been in labour since yesterday and barely slept. I say I put you down on the waste extractor and fetch you a liquid nutrient pack.”

It said something about Julian’s newly-registered fatigue that he just nodded, and rested his forehead on Garak’s shoulder.

Over the next twenty minutes, they proceeded as planned: Garak helped Julian sit on the toilet, went to wash his own hands, and then replicated a squishy, drinkable packet of nutritious jelly for Julian.

Julian, however, didn’t want to put anything near his mouth until he’d washed, so Garak put the pack down by the sink and instead pulled Julian’s blood-, milk-, and placenta-stained blue tunic off over his head. He left him leaning on a white tiled wall while Garak himself undressed to naked. They then half-walked, half-shuffled together into the sonic shower, Garak guiding and supporting Julian all the way.

“Water,” Julian said. “Not noise.”

“I thought it was the baby who disliked the sonic vibrations.”

“I got used to the water,” Julian mumbled, eyes closed as he rested his forehead on the tiles. “Hmm, hold me up.”

Garak faced Julian and wrapped both arms around his waist, which was now shockingly small compared to that morning, despite the lingering bump. His middle felt somewhere between firm and squishy. The rest of him relaxed _deeply_ as Garak gave a vocal command and warm water started to fall over them, sprinkling a wide area with moderate pressure. Garak’s back tingled with delight; precious water covered him gently, pouring down the backs of his legs.

“Garak,” Julian mumbled as Garak began to stroke his shoulders and back for him, moving downwards, washing away sweat. “How come you don’t have a penis?”

Garak smiled widely but didn’t let his chuckle escape; it would be far too loud in this bright and echoey chamber. “Ever the curious one, I see.”

“I just don’t know the first thing about Cardassian physiology, that’s all. I don’t want to assume things.”

“Yet you assume that, as a man, I ought to have a penis. Or, perhaps, the Cardassian equivalent.”

“I didn’t assume. I asked. And push my hair out of my eyes, would you.”

Garak smiled at that pretty brown face as he revealed it from behind sopping wet hair. “Better?”

“Hm.” Julian shut his eyes and leaned to press his nose into Garak’s cheek, smooching at length and smiling more and more. “Are you _going_ to answer my question?”

“Rather private question, wouldn’t you say?”

“Garak, you’ve got your fingers in a private place of my own – eep! – right now. Eh-hee! That tickles. I think I’m entitled to invade your privacy right back.”

“How bold of you to think so.”

Julian rolled his eyes, smiling. “Just wash me, you monster.”

Garak gently turned Julian around and let him rest forward against the wall, water pouring down his body. Julian spread his legs just a little, and Garak very carefully and _very_ gently ran his fingers along the groove of Julian’s perineum, slicked by what could only be described as _goop_. Blood and other assorted viscera came apart in globules and washed away with the water. Throughout the minute Garak had to work at it, Julian kept his forehead on his folded hands, pressed on the wall, breathing slowly.

Gradually, with a fond smile, Garak moved to embrace Julian from behind, kissing his shoulder as water sluiced over them, and hugged his waist while they breathed together.

Julian soon tipped his head back, and with rubbed-clean hands, Garak began to stroke down Julian’s front, apologising under his breath as a touch to Julian’s nipples made him hiss in pain. They shared a shy laugh together as Garak washed Julian’s external genitals, exploring their shape as he went.

“Is it tucked inside?” Julian asked.

Garak hummed curiously. “Is what tucked inside where?”

“Your penis. Inside you. It pokes out when you’re excited, doesn’t it?”

Garak sighed heavily. “Still on that, are we?”

“Sorry.” Julian seemed to realise his questions weren’t being received as innocently as he asked them, and he turned in Garak’s arms to hang from his shoulders, offering a gentle look. “I’ll stop asking.”

“That would be prudent.”

Julian went quiet for a long time, letting Garak soap through his hair and rinse it clean. Garak thought the poor fellow was just tired, but then he caught sight of his slightly dismayed expression and realised the curtailed conversation had left him upset.

“Doctor.” Garak caught Julian’s chin and lifted it, seeking eye contact. They made it under the scattered fall of the water, and held on, wet eyelashes and stinging eyes. “If it’s any consolation, I was rather hoping that all your questions about me _would_ indeed be answered, but under somewhat different circumstances. I would say ‘more intimate’ circumstances, but... I suspect there are few things more intimate than this.”

Julian smiled gently, understanding. “You mean if we ever made love.”

Garak hummed a pleased note, gaze dipping to Julian’s lips. “Perhaps that is, or perhaps that isn’t what I meant. But that being your assumption, doctor... It seems there’s hope for us yet.”

Julian chuckled, fingering water out of his eyes. “Garak, I think I need to lie down now.”

“Naturally. Are you all clean?”

“Clean as I’m going to get right n-uuhh.” Julian’s legs gave out, and he slithered down Garak’s front, prevented from collapsing entirely by Garak’s swift grab under his arms. Instead of raising Julian, Garak lowered himself along with him, cooing soothing noises when Julian gave a whimper of distress.

Garak realised that he couldn’t lift a floppy-limbed Julian as well as dry and dress them both. He considered dressing himself and then returning for Julian, but that seemed cruel when Julian was so tired; it wasn’t fair to make him wait.

So Garak kissed Julian’s shoulder, ordered the shower to turn off, then asked, “Who would you rather assist us, Keiko or Chief O’Brien?”

Julian shook his head. “Don’t mind.”

So Garak took his pick, and turned his head towards the door, calling, “KeIKoOO?”

He hated shouting. So terribly undignified.

But he soon heard approaching footsteps which stopped at the closed door. “ _Everything all right?_ ” Keiko asked through the door.

“Dear Dr. Bashir and I require some personal assistance, if you would be so kind? Please be warned that neither of us are clothed.”

“ _Oh... Um... Do you need me to fetch you something?_ ”

“Please, come inside,” Garak said.

Keiko checked behind her when the door slid open, and she stepped in, quickly closing it again.

Garak gave her a calm smile when she looked towards his and Julian’s bare and dripping forms, kneeling together in the bottom of the shower tray. “Our clothes are there.” Garak nodded towards the shelf by the sink. “If you might pass us a towel?”

Keiko understood what she needed to do beyond merely passing a towel, and once said towel was draped behind Julian and tucked over his shoulders, she held his limp form upright while Garak stood and fetched his own towel, hurriedly drying off and tucking the towel around his waist, then returning to lift Julian in the so-called bridal style they’d both enjoyed earlier.

Keiko went ahead and dug up fresh underwear for Julian from the clothing pile, and applied a pad to his underwear to absorb his postpartum bleeding. The three of them balanced together to help the doctor dress, Julian leaning on Garak in the middle of the bathroom. Keiko had something of Nurse Jabara’s energy about her: clean-moving, precise, and the movement of her eyes stayed professional, never lingering on skin any longer than she had to.

Soon Julian was modest and fresh, wearing that ghastly raglan-sleeved t-shirt with Quark’s face on the back – but the smile Julian wore when he realised which shirt he’d been dressed in _proved_ he understood: Garak choosing the comfiest shirt for him, despite his personal hatred of it, was a sign of love.

Julian sat on the closed toilet lid, resting his head on Keiko’s hip like an exhausted child while she petted him. Eyes closed, he sucked on the straw poked into his nutrient pack, gulping and gulping. Garak hadn’t even realised how greyed-out Julian had become over the afternoon, but a flush of colour seemed to return to him now – whether because of the shower’s heat or the insertion of much-needed nutrients, Garak couldn’t say.

Now dressed in fresh underwear and his own lavish yet understated pyjamas, Garak lifted Julian once more and followed Keiko out of the bathroom. Julian carried on drinking his jelly, head lolling on Garak’s shoulder ridges.

“To think,” Garak said, taking Julian past the couch and towards his bedroom, “you went six months without stopping, refusing a break, and ignoring your scheduled rest days, even against your own medical advice. It seems your weekends have rather caught up with you all at once. I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to sleep for a week, doctor.”

“I do,” Julian mumbled as he was lain on his bed inside the play den and given a pillow and his teddy bear. “Could sleep for a _month_.”

“Hope you don’t,” Keiko said kindly. “You’ll miss a lot of Juyoshi’s first moments.”

As if the baby knew his name had been spoken, the mere mention from his mother’s lips ignited a tiny, high-pitched squeal from the other end of their quarters. Julian and Keiko both responded with astonished tension, but only Keiko moved to tend to the baby.

Garak slowly sat at the side of Julian’s bed, sneaking a hand into Julian’s and stroking it.

“Thank you,” Julian said, meeting Garak’s eyes from under hooded, slow-blinking lids. “For everything. Making baby clothes, making toys, massaging my feet, sleeping with me – _reading_ to me, bringing me dinner... making nice with Miles. Staying here. Holding my hand. Washing me, carrying me—? I realise you didn’t have to do any of it. Not a damn thing. And yet you did everything.”

“On the contrary,” Garak replied, bowing low to kiss Julian’s cheek. He rose up a short way, looking down into Julian’s pretty green eyes, stroking his damp hair off his forehead. “Sentiment told me I had little choice in the matter.”

Julian gave him a crooked smile. “Sentiment? How un-Cardassian of you.”

Garak chuckled warmly. “You have _no_ idea.”

Julian’s hand twisted in Garak’s, holding on finger-between-finger now. His eyelids drooped, fatigue taking hold again – but he opened his eyes wide and looked towards the door as Keiko entered making soft noises, cradling little Juyoshi. Miles and Molly appeared in the doorway too, watching as Keiko took Garak’s place at the side of the bed.

Keiko leaned down to offer the baby to Julian.

“Ohhhh,” Julian said, turning on his side and crooking a finger to stroke the baby’s cheek. “He’s so little. I remember him being bigger. Felt _much_ bigger inside me.”

Miles scoffed from the doorway, arms folded, eyes ashine. “Trust me.” He reached to pat Molly’s head and ruffled her hair. She peeked up at him. “They grow fast. By tomorrow morning you’ll swear blind he’s doubled in size.”

Juyoshi was still fussing, squirming and making tiny squeaky noises.

Garak was surely no expert on facial expressions in Human infants, but he still remarked, “I think perhaps he’s hungry?”

“I think so too,” Keiko said. She sat up, carefully taking the baby from Julian, both supporting his head as they transferred him. She lifted her top on one side and brought her son to her bosom.

Everyone watched, fascinated and a little soft-hearted as Juyoshi latched onto Keiko’s nipple and was nourished by milk and by touch. Garak kept looking over at Julian from where he stood at the foot of the bed, always glad to see him at ease. That content smile was just darling on him.

After a minute, Julian hesitated, but didn’t speak as he wanted to.

“What is it, doctor?” Garak asked, unwilling to see him disappointed.

“C—” Julian met Keiko’s eyes. “Can I...?”

Keiko let out a happy breath and said, “Of course! Of course you can feed him, Julian. Miles, put some pillows behind him.”

Miles hurried to obey, and Julian sat up, giving Miles a tender look of gratitude – then catching his hand and kissing it. Garak felt a tick of jealousy, but Miles responded to the kiss by ruffling Julian’s hair in a rather boyish manner, and Julian’s eyes went straight to Garak’s... That smile said a thousand words. Garak had nothing to worry about.

Once Julian was comfortable, he too rolled up his shirt as Keiko had done, and, with Miles assistance, they transferred the baby back, little body supported by two pillows on Julian’s lap.

The baby cried a little, disliking the change. Encouraging and pleading noises had no effect, so Keiko put a little of her milk on Julian’s lactating right nipple with a fingertip, and the baby immediately latched on. Julian had fed the baby earlier, the first time he’d held him. But that had been a necessary and distracted moment, since Juyoshi needed the first milk for the immune-boosting colostrum content – whereas this experience was... calmer. Sweeter. And certainly cleaner.

Juyoshi sucked. Julian gasped – then threw his head back laughing, giggling, eyes scrunched up tight.

Molly leaned forward on the edge of the bed, asking, “Does it tickle?”

“It hurts!” Julian exclaimed, apparently delighted. “I absolutely hate it!”

Keiko shot Miles a confused look, but Garak understood. So he explained to the family and assured Julian: “I’m sure that makes it far easier to let dear Juyoshi go.”

Keiko’s face blanked with shock. “Let him go?” She turned to Julian. “Julian, we’re not taking him from you. You’re as much a parent to him as we are.”

Julian gave her an uncertain look. “It’s nice that you keep saying that, Keiko, but you... you don’t _really_ mean it, do you...? I’d be the witch nicking your baby over a few cabbages I lent you, once.”

But when Keiko chortled and Miles rolled his eyes with a grin, Julian smiled.

“We mean it,” Keiko assured him.

Julian let out a shaking breath and met Molly’s eyes, then grinned when she leaned to kiss his chin, almost headbutting his nose as she did.

Keiko reached over and held Julian’s hand underneath the suckling baby. “Stay with us, Julian. For as long as you like. Six weeks. Six months. Forever. Whatever you want.”

She checked with Miles, cocking her head towards Garak, and Miles just nodded, head down. He even smiled, and spoke before Keiko did: “Same goes for you, Garak. You, uh. You go where Julian goes, right? So. Guess it’s gonna be a full house around here.”

Julian let his eyes rise to meet Garak’s across the softly-lit fort. Garak had seen him riotously ecstatic before, and quietly joyous, and overwhelmed with a hundred positive emotions, like in the Infirmary earlier – but this look was a whole other kind of happy. He had a family who loved him unconditionally. And the fact he brought Garak into the fold, with just this one look, was enough to undo the last of the stitches that had held Garak’s esoteric tapestry together all his life.

For the first time in living memory, Garak allowed himself to feel completely loved.

Now he understood all those silly Human fairytales Julian kept making him read. Because now he knew _why_ they called it ‘true’ love.

It really was exactly that.

Not a damned lie in sight.

  
★  


“Hmmm?” Julian inhaled deeply, snuggling closer to Garak. Then he sniffed awake, head up, tense in the bed.

Garak raised himself up too, groggy as he plucked himself out of sleep. “C’mputer, lights on, dim,” he slurred.

Julian pushed his hair back, looking around – then he saw his shrunken middle and jerked back violently, hyperventilating—

Garak quickly sat up and dragged Julian into his arms, rocking him, shushing him. “It’s alright. The baby’s asleep with Keiko and Miles. There’s no need to worry.”

Julian’s panicked breaths slowed, and he nodded, gulping, hands moving to clutch Garak’s arms. “F-F-For a moment th-there, I... I forgot...”

“You’ve had a big day.” Garak kissed his forehead. “Here, maybe Kukalaka will help.” He gave Julian the bear, and was glad to see him smile in response. “It’s been a while since you ate anything solid. Do you need anything, or can we go back to sleep?”

“Ahhh... hmm.” Julian eased out of Garak’s rocking embrace, shaking his head. “Tea.”

“Peppermint?”

“Tarkalean. Extra sweet.”

Garak nearly gasped. “Your favourite order! I haven’t heard you request that in months.”

“And I want chicken,” Julian realised, frowning. “Well, I don’t _want_ -want chicken – don’t replicate me chicken – I just...? I want _chicken_ , you know?”

“No.”

“Okay, maybe a little bit of chicken,” Julian muttered, eyes wandering. “Ooh, fried rice. Ooh, _stir fry_! My mouth’s watering now.” He licked his lips, then tutted. “Oh! Garak! We didn’t get to finish lunch!”

Garak, very tired, rubbed his eyes. “Mmm.”

“Can we have lunch?” Julian looked at the disgruntled Garak with such charm and dazzle. How could anyone say no to a face like that? Garak wished he had the strength to. “Let’s get dressed, set up the dining table with napkins and cutlery, and we’ll drink tea and eat lunch.”

“Doctor...”

“Oh, I know, I know, it’s the middle of the night. Computer, time?”

“ _Time is twenty-five-forty hours._ ”

“There, you see,” Julian said, as if he’d proven some sort of point. “Midnight snack.”

“Surely midnight is a better time for... rest, and _recuperation_.”

“You said it yourself, Garak,” Julian said, too cheerfully, leaving behind Kukalaka, then climbing over Garak’s lap and scooting to the edge of the bed, “I haven’t eaten.” He pressed his hands into the bed and leaned forward to kiss Garak on the lips, head turned, hot breath sliding across Garak’s cheek, leaving a searing chill there when he finally pulled away. “And any time spent enjoying your company could only be time spent well.”

Garak hated that he was flattered. With a dramatic sigh, he peeled back the blanket and swung his feet out of bed. “Fine,” he said, glad to see Julian bounce on his heels. “But I’m not getting dressed.”

“Oh-ho,” Julian jibed, hands on his hips, beaming at Garak as he stood up and they lingered an inch from each other’s noses. “The barefaced _impropriety_ of it all.”

Garak smirked. “Just replicate me some coffee, my dear.”

Julian dragged in a breath and exclaimed, arms flung into the air, “I CAN DRINK CAFFEINATED COFFEE AGAIN!”

Garak clamped a hand over Julian’s offending mouth, and they both listened, ears straining, hearts pounding, waiting to hear a baby cry.

But twenty seconds passed and not a dust mote stirred. Julian burst out a breath as Garak released him, glaring.

“I missed coffee,” Julian mumbled sheepishly, head down.

“So I gathered,” Garak replied. “I imagine you’d need a lot more coffee if this baby were the sort to _cry_ all night. Count yourself lucky.”

“I thought Cardassians didn’t believe in luck,” Julian remarked as they headed into the living room. Garak wrapped himself in a cold bathrobe while Julian wore the bed’s still-warm blanket as a cape.

“There a lot of things I don’t believe in, doctor,” Garak said, trudging to the replicator and staring at it, sleepily trying to remember how it worked. “But a good night’s sleep and regulated meals are things I will swear by, lifelong, under pain of death.”

“And yet you’re here for a midnight party with me,” Julian noted. “And you stayed up with me every night when I couldn’t sleep. And you kept coming back to do it again. And _then_ you didn’t leave at _all_ except for work. And, may I point out, Garak, I’m not pregnant anymore – and you’re still here. Not sleeping. Eating at unfathomable hours.”

Garak grunted and ordered Klingon coffee. “I can assure you, when it all began, I didn’t ever expect to make a permanent habit of it.”

“Again,” Julian said as Garak handed him his Tarkalean tea. “It’s over. And here you are.”

Garak sipped his drink, giving Julian a thoughtful look. “Here I am, indeed.”

  
★  



	11. No Cure for True Love

The O’Briens’ quarters were packed full of friends, and it seemed to Julian that the amount of love that they had to share exceeded the space available. Emotion pushed into the walls and portholes as firmly as it did Julian’s ribs, and each smile turned his way and each soft little coo offered to Juyoshi in his arms only made it all worse.

And by ‘worse’ he meant ‘better’.

But, oh, did his chest hurt.

Julian’s attention flicked between conversations, trying to pay attention to all of them at once.

Captain Sisko was over by the buffet-laid dining table, wild-eyed and expressing in no uncertain terms to Jadzia how _much_ he loved babies, and how _thrilled_ he was to have the family grow like this. Even six weeks old, Juyoshi’s existence was as exciting as the day he was born. Jadzia reached for Sisko’s arm and agreed, reflecting his enthusiasm – then she turned for the buffet to figure out where he’d found the popcorn, because she wanted some too.

Odo loomed over Quark’s shoulder, arms folded, while Quark nattered insistently to Keiko that she take another six of those awful yet comfortable t-shirts with his face printed on the back. Keiko tried to remain polite, smile straining, while clearly not being sure whether to accept the gift or not. Tentatively, she did. And then she looked like she regretted it.

Worf sat cross-legged with Molly and Kira on the rug, very big and very imposing, listening carefully and occasionally nodding as Molly told him _all_ about Piggy’s babies, showing off her eleven new plush targs, complete with tufty grey fur and teeny-weeny tusks. Kira laughed in absolute delight, reaching to pat Molly’s back.

Jake Sisko perched with Nog on the far end of the couch, opposite Julian, snickering as they pawed through Keiko and Julian’s breastfeeding logbook. Julian let them carry on, as they could only be learning.

Nurse Jabara sat with Miles on the wall-side of the dining table, nodding and smiling as Miles waxed poetic about all the amazing things his baby could do, like gurgle, and burp, and wrinkle his tiny little nose. He awkwardly mentioned how Juyoshi being deaf in one ear and partially deaf in the other was sort of a blessing right now, too, because at least the whole family was sleeping through the night.

Julian smiled, although he did feel partially responsible for that. It happened sometimes: a complicated birth had followed a complicated pregnancy, and under those circumstances a child’s functions were likely to falter during delivery. But it wasn’t permanent damage; Julian had already formulated eight personalised ways to help Juyoshi hear better as he grew.

Not only was Miles going to teach Yoshi to read, write, and speak Irish, Keiko and Molly would teach him Japanese, Julian Arabic, and Garak had eagerly jumped on the bandwagon and volunteered all six of the Bajoran dialects he knew, as well as Cardassi. And the family were _all_ learning Federation Sign Language – the non-Starfleet personnel included. Recently Jadzia, Julian, Jabara, and Sisko had been giving private lessons during their downtime.

Julian remained comforted by the knowledge that prior to birth, Juyoshi had heard every word of the stories his four parents and older sibling had read to him, even if it sounded like incoherent mumbling. He knew them all by their voices.

Jadzia broke away from Sisko and the food, making her way over to Julian. She sat on the sofa beside him, beaming down at the baby in his arms. “Ohhh. Every time I see him, I swear he gets cuter,” she marvelled.

“Tell me about it,” Julian said warmly, smirking down at his little sleeping bundle, who was wrapped in a double-tucked Cardassian-style swaddle, with a supportive patterned hood cupping the back of Juyoshi’s head. “If he looks anything like Miles and Keiko when he grows up, the whole _quadrant’s_ in trouble.”

Jadzia gasped and reached out towards the doors, as Leeta had just arrived with Rom. Leeta lit up and ran to take Jadiza’s hands, then crooned aloud and fell at Julian’s feet, head tilted as she admired the baby.

“Awww, look at himmmm,” Leeta said, soft-eyed and smiling. “He grew again! Juliannnn...”

Julian felt more and more loved as Leeta and Jadzia fussed over him and the baby, chirping to each other all the while.

“You never saw the little onesies,” Jadzia lamented. “Leeta, you would’ve loved them; they had tiny Starfleet badges and everything.”

“Ohhhhh, I’m going to cryyyy,” Leeta wailed, sitting down and flapping air at her face. “It’s too much! It’s too much.”

Rom came to crouch beside her, offering her a fruity cocktail. “Uhhhhh, a drink for you...?”

Leeta sniffled and took the cocktail, smiling widely. “Thank you, Rom.”

“It’s no trouble, Leeta. Aaanything for you, Lieutenant?” Rom asked Jadzia.

Jadzia smiled. “No thanks, Rom. But it’s sweet of you to ask.”

Julian shook his head when Rom glanced his way.

So Rom looked back to Leeta, gave a hopelessly longing smile, and went off to talk to Quark, who was surreptitiously scooping snacks into his pockets while Odo was distracted: Molly had given him a baby targ toy to look at. Odo did some tentative humming and nodding, clearly out of his depth.

Jadzia fingered at the baby’s cowl hood, tilting her head. “How come he’s _not_ wearing his onesies? Garak put so much effort in.”

“They’re all in the wash,” Julian said. “There was spit-up on everything, and we figured he ought to wear something clean for the party. Garak made this wrap too, by the way. Nice, isn’t it? He says he had one just like it when he was a baby.”

“Where _is_ Garak?” Jadzia looked around the room, only just noticing he wasn’t here.

A pang of dismay cooled the warmth Julian had been feeling up until now. “Oh. He’s, um.”

Jadzia and Leeta both looked at him, sensing his discomfort. Under their scrutiny, Julian tried to put on a brave face, and told them, “He’s just – seeing a friend. There’s a Cardassian lady who’s been meeting him for, ah... appointments, recently. He said he had a meeting today and couldn’t reschedule.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s heading back to Cardassia this evening,” Jadzia said casually. “Smart lady.” She cocked her head thoughtfully, playfully. “Absolutely _stellar_ in bed.”

Julian’s skin chilled. “ _Is_ she,” he intoned. He sank down a little in his cushions, focusing his eyes on the baby and nothing else.

“Aw, you’re not jealous, are you?” Jadzia asked.

Julian puffed out a hasty breath and said, “No! Why would I be? He can see anyone he wants. Garak’s been _more_ than accepting of all my other crushes. I don’t see why he shouldn’t see other people. I’m not jealous. I _shouldn’t_ be jealous...” He looked unsurely at Jadzia. “It’s not cruel of me if I _do_ feel jealous, is it?”

Jadiza exchanged a glance with Leeta, then turned serious eyes on Julian, squeezing his knee with a hand. “It’s natural to worry, Julian. If you love him as much as all that... and you _want_ mutual fidelity...?”

Julian shrugged, then nodded. Yeah, he did.

“Then talk about those things,” Jadzia told him. “You should. You’re so open with him usually, aren’t you? At least you have been, recently – I _thought_ something was going on between you. Don’t let fear of upsetting him get in your way, Julian. You deserve mutual trust.”

Julian felt sadness melt all the pressure away from his ribs. “I think it’s my fault, really.”

“How so?” Jadzia sat up a bit more, paying him all her attention. Leeta remained close, listening as she sipped her cocktail.

“Well,” Julian mumbled, “I haven’t really wanted to... you know. Have sex. Maybe he’s finding other avenues of satiating his needs; I don’t know.”

Jadzia smiled. “I think you should talk to him about what he’s _doing_ with Denett before jumping to conclusions.”

Julian lowered his gaze. “Hmm.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Garak had to say on the subject. All Julian had heard were lies so far. The man was mysterious at the best of times, but as soon as this ‘Denett’ came aboard DS9 a week ago, Garak had been rescheduling lunches and sneaking off at odd hours to meet with her. If Julian hadn’t run into them in Quark’s at a time he never usually took breaks, he never would’ve even known where Garak was going or who he was seeing. Garak had looked so guilty when he knew he’d been caught, but ever since, his only response to questioning was light-voiced nonchalance, as if Julian’s feelings were as simple to soothe as the baby’s.

Yet there was wisdom in Jadzia’s advice, as always. Garak was rarely up to the thing Julian thought he was up to. Maybe he and Denett were just sampling the Cardassian beverages and dishes Julian never had a taste for. Garak always was a fine-dining snob, and who better to share that snobbery with than another Cardassian?

Julian sighed, working up a fresh smile. “You’re right,” he said, calmer now that he had a plan in mind. “Once this party’s over we’re heading over to our new quarters, so I’ll talk to him once we get there.”

Leeta squeaked. “You and Garak are moving in together?”

Julian blushed, shifting in place. “Well, that’s the idea. I haven’t actually... _told_ Garak. I thought maybe it could be a nice surprise.”

Jadzia snorted. “You two! You’re all worked up that he’s hiding things from you, and here you are, hiding things from him right back. What makes you think he doesn’t have a ‘nice surprise’ in mind for _you_?”

Julian’s lips rounded. “Oh. Well...?”

“You’re both hopelessly in love,” Leeta smiled, giving a fond eye-roll. “We all know Garak had never been the most trustworthy man on this station, but...” she gave a cute shrug, almost touching her dangling Bajoran earring with her bare shoulder, “I say you trust him on this one.”

“Hear, hear,” Jadzia said, putting her palm over Leeta’s knuckles and giving her hand a wiggle.

Julian felt a rising warmth again. “Alright.” He drew a deep, assuring breath. “I _do_ trust him. Sort of.” He reconsidered. “No, I do! I really shouldn’t. But I do.”

The doors hissed open and in walked Garak.

“Speak of the devil,” Julian smiled across the room, feeling a rush as Garak met his eyes and made his way over. “Hallo, you. Mwah!”

Garak smooched him twice on the lips, then made a grateful sound as Jadzia scooted down the sofa so he could be next to Julian. Jake and Nog were about to put down the breastfeeding log and scuttle off, when Jadzia took a non-judgemental interest, and they began to share the logbook with her.

Julian purred a note as Garak put an arm around his shoulders, looking down at the baby.

“Still asleep!” Garak tutted. “If only I could sleep so soundly.”

“Sound _less_ ly is more like it,” Julian uttered, making Garak chuckle. “Ohh, you’d hate sleeping the way Yoshi does, Garak. Not being able to hear the music of the night? No snoring Julian Bashir. No mumbly sleeptalking rants about mountain passes flooding with cheese sauce, the tidal wave ridden by surfing goats. Your nights would be so dull.”

“That they would be,” Garak said, starting to play with Julian’s hair. “Any night without your constant presence would be.”

Leeta caught Julian’s eyes from over the rim of her cocktail glass and gave him a ‘ _oh, you guyyys_ ’ kind of look. Her manicured hand still pressed her heart when she turned swiftly away, so Garak didn’t notice he’d been overheard.

“Mr. Garak!”

Garak and Julian both looked up at the call, and both grinned as they saw Sisko holding five of the eleven plush miniature targs, looking overjoyed. He said, “Miss Molly O’Brien informs me you were the one who made – no, my mistake, _delivered_ her targ’s babies. Ha!”

Garak inclined his head. “A straightforward, if time-consuming birth, indeed. But!” He gave Molly an adoring look. “Certainly a worthwhile one.”

From his place on the rug, Worf held up a targ to his nose, examining its face. “These are well-produced targs.”

“Why, thank you.”

“I wish to order one.”

Garak’s eyeridges shot up, and Julian chuckled. “You... want to... order a targ?”

“One this size.” Worf showed Garak the targ baby. “It is... _cute_.”

Garak’s eyes darted to Molly, who informed Worf, “ _That_ one’s named Derna, after a Bajoran moon. You can tell because she has a moon mark, see? Just there on her side. And her ears don’t work. She was born like that. But it’s okay. Targs can com-moon-ih-cate without speaking; it’s called Sign Lang-witch.”

Garak put on a professional smile. “Mr. Worf, I shall see what I can do about... acquiring you a new baby targ to ‘adopt’.”

Worf grunted, nodding. “Thank you.”

Quark came marching past, muttering, “See! See! Not dangerous at all!” Behind him he dragged the wooden duck on a string, which rolled along the carpet, waddling due to wheels that weren’t quite circular. Odo followed the duck, staring at it, humming suspiciously.

Garak and Julian’s eyes met, and they both looked away and tried not to snicker.

Julian began to croon, “Oh... ohhh, shhh,” as Yoshi stirred and started to fuss, squirming and making his squeaky, nasal noises. “Shhh, Yoshi, it’s okay.”

Keiko, apparently on high alert, dumped her pile of shirts in Miles’ arms and came over to Julian. “Food time. Oh, come on. Mama’s got you.”

Jake nodded, studying the logbook. “See that?” he mentioned to Nog. “Fifteen-hundred hours. It’s Mrs. O’Brien’s turn. Dr. Bashir only lactates in the night, early morning, and late evenings.”

Julian chuckled, giving dear Yoshi a kiss and readying to hand him over. But he hesitated. “Wait...”

Keiko waited.

Julian shut his eyes and cuddled the baby close, exhaling. Oh, he was going to miss this. Even the shrill squealing that threatened to deafen him. Of course he’d be back by the evening – he wasn’t about to abandon his family. But living elsewhere would change a lot in the way of routine. There’d be far fewer opportunities to put a passing kiss on Yoshi’s forehead.

Giving the baby one more kiss, Julian allowed Keiko to take him carefully, and then he stood up so she could take his seat. Keiko was soon joined by a spellbound Kira. Julian arranged a pillow on Keiko’s lap, then stood by, tucked under Garak’s warm arm as Keiko began to feed the baby.

Julian sighed. “Alright.” He nudged Garak in the side. “Come on, we’d better get moving or the transporter crew’s going to put all the furniture in the wrong place.”

Garak gave a curious hum. “You aren’t going to stay for the rest of the party?”

“What party?” Julian grinned and thumbed over his shoulder. “Odo just caught Quark stealing food, and now he’s chasing him screaming down the hallway. We’re not seeing _them_ for the rest of the night. Leeta spilled her drink down her front and she asked Rom to help her ‘clean up’ in the bathroom. Worf just asked Jadzia whether he ought to order a tiny bat’leth from you as well, and now they’re talking about Klingon warfare and dollhouses – and I doubt anybody’s getting a word in edgeways for the next hour. Sisko’s found Miles and Molly’s half-built jigsaw puzzle. Far as I’m concerned, the party’s over.” He glanced at Garak. “Weren’t you paying attention? Or were you too _distracted_? Shame on you.”

Rather surprised, but not unhappy, Garak replied, “Shame on me.”

Julian cocked his head towards the exit. Garak slipped his palm from Julian’s shoulder and slid it into his hand, holding on.

“Bye.” Julian bent to give Keiko a kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

“Good luck moving in,” Keiko said, eyes desperate not to linger knowingly on Garak. “Hope it all goes smoothly.”

“You and me both.”

Julian went over to the dining table, where Sisko was gleefully assisting Miles and Molly with the jigsaw arrangement. He put a hand on Miles’ shoulder and leaned down behind him, whispering into his ear, “Going now.”

Miles glanced back. “Now? You’ll be back for dinner, right?”

“Mm-hm!” Julian fretted, then gave into compulsion and put a quick sideways kiss on Miles’ lips, blushing by the time he pulled back. Miles was blushing too, but smiling. Julian bit his lip, grinned, then glanced at Garak and let out a breath of gladness when he saw Garak smiling.

Julian decided as they headed for the door: even if Garak did have some kind of intimate connection with this Denett character... well, it was only fair. Julian had Miles. Besides their current visitor, Garak was the only Cardassian on the station. He’d have things he liked to do with other Cardassians that he probably couldn’t do with Humans. Cardassians just didn’t think the same way; they expressed feelings in secretive implications – not to mention the fact their sexual parts were all different. Julian didn’t have any idea how Cardassians had sex. And if Garak had a need, it was only out of kindness that he sought pleasure elsewhere, rather than coercing Julian into things he wasn’t ready for yet.

Compared to the hubbub of a room full of family, the hallways were quiet. Motionless. Dim. Julian and Garak’s footsteps tapped softly in sync, then out of it, then back in.

Julian led Garak by the hand into a turbolift, and said, “Habitat Level F.”

The lift began to whir along, and Julian and Garak remained quiet, hand-in-hand.

Then Julian glanced over at Garak and asked, “Did you have a good time with Denett today?”

“Our personal exchange came to a most satisfying conclusion, yes.”

Julian hung his head, wincing at his own discomfort. He wanted to be okay with this but it still... hurt. Was he being a hypocrite? Or was he just uncomfortable because Garak initially tried to _hide_ his secondary relationship, rather than sharing it with Julian? It was so unlike the way Julian was always open about his affections for Miles and Keiko...

But Denett was leaving. Perhaps their fling was over.

“Are you seeing her again?”

Garak hummed a short note of thought. “In time, I truly hope so.”

“Hm.”

Julian swallowed. The lift opened out to another blue hallway, and Julian stepped out. They walked together towards Julian’s new address – and stopped at the door.

“Well,” Julian said. A breath fell from his lips. “This is it, I suppose.” He reached over and pressed the button to open the doors, and light and warmth poured out. “Hm.” The furniture all looked like it had been put in the right places, after all. “Home sweet home.”

Garak bowed his head. “Congratulations on your new abode, doctor. If I may—” He lifted Julian’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “I wish you every happiness here.”

Julian tilted his head, giving Garak a sweet, doe-eyed look. “You’re not coming in? I made sure they set the environmental controls warmer so you’re not always stealing the blankets.”

Garak had looked ready to depart, but the moment he heard those words he paused. “Pardon me?”

Julian rolled his eyes, grinning. “Come on.” He dragged Garak inside and shut the doors. “Look at that view! Whole universe out there.”

“Doctor, these quarters are the same as any other.”

“Yes, but they’re ours,” Julian smiled. He twisted to face Garak, hung both arms around his neck, and dangled there, swaying from foot to foot, which always soothed them both. “And I think in time we’ll make them fully our own.”

Garak seemed quietly stunned by this. “My dear... I had no idea you intended me to live with you. I’d already made arrangements to return to my own quarters.”

“No, you didn’t,” Julian smiled. “I had Sisko put a temporary hold on that request. You can go if you want. I won’t stop you. But... if you wanted...? There really is a place for you here.” He shut his eyes and gave Garak a kiss. “I mh’hlve you.”

Garak pulled back, smiling. “ _Sentiment_ , doctor?”

“A heinous amount,” Julian uttered, shaking his head in fake disgust. “Practically plagues me, Elim.”

“Hm,” Garak smiled. “I wonder what the treatment would be.”

Julian pursed his lips. “Hmm, I think you’re in a better position to provide the treatment than I am.”

“True.” Garak slipped his arms around Julian’s waist, cuddling him close, smiling against his cheek. “In that case, dear Julian, I think I may accept your offer. If only because you are clearly in _dire_ need of medical care.”

“No cure for true love, as far as I know.”

Upon hearing that, Garak made a soppy, breathy noise and melted into a kiss: a slow and wholesome connection that deepened with his hand curled in Julian’s hair, and his other palm seeking to cradle the small of Julian’s back. Julian’s baby bump was halfway gone by now, but a noticeable pudge remained between them. As Garak began to nuzzle into the kiss, Julian sighed in relief, smiling and breaking the kiss completely.

The devotion in Garak’s eyes was absolute. He loved Julian, and he loved him completely. Whoever Denett was or wasn’t to him, she couldn’t take anything away from _this_.

“Julian,” Garak said, lowering his gaze, perhaps in response to something decisive in Julian’s eyes, or perhaps something else entirely, “now we’re in private, there’s something that I wanted to... tell you.”

“ _Honesty_ , Garak?” Julian grinned. “Now who’s in need of help? What the hell happened to you?”

“Dare I say it, doctor? Love,” Garak admitted. “My, what a sorry day this is.”

Julian laughed, easing Garak’s chin up with his fingertips, meeting his eyes. “Pretty good day, from where I’m standing.” They kissed, then parted, both smiling. “What was it you wanted to say?”

Garak let out a breath, eyes turning to the porthole and the stars beyond, then back to Julian. “Do you mean for us to start a family right away?”

Julian’s skin prickled with surprise. “Oh. No, I... Not _right_ away, I suppose. Maybe in a few... years. I, um.” He fiddled with Garak’s collar, then shrugged and admitted, “I might need to work on some issues first. Suffice to say, there were times where I found carrying and delivering Yoshi a _bit_ traumatising.”

They both chuckled, finding it easier to make light of tough memories than bring the mood of the moment down. “And again,” Julian said, “there’s the question of how much we’d be able to provide for a higher-needs child. And whether I’d be able to conceive at _all_ , really. I’ve never tried to find out if I can. Actually, I—”

Garak hummed encouragement, still holding Julian’s waist.

Julian gulped, and suggested, skin burning hot, “I thought maybe we might even adopt? Plenty of children needing parents. Cardassian or Bajoran orphans.”

Garak’s lips parted. “Oh... yes... A very generous thought, doctor, yes...”

“You don’t sound sure.”

A set of Garak’s ensuing expressions showed how he fumbled through an unspoken thought, but he composed himself in order to reply, smoothly, “The woman I’ve been seeing, to your obvious chagrin... Her title is ‘Doctor’. Dr. Verna Denett.”

“ _Another_ doctor! My God, you _do_ have a type.”

Garak clucked but didn’t quite laugh. “She’s a Cardassian fertility specialist.”

Julian was about to chuckle about irony and other assorted things when his heart jolted in realisation. “Wait... what?”

Garak hung his head, shy about what he was about to divulge. “I invited her here to perform the necessary tests. You see, doctor, it’s become clear that it may take far longer than I envisioned before you feel comfortable having a sexual exchange with me. And I think it’s only fair that rather than having you discover certain facts at the time of our coupling, I simply tell you face-to-face, as... as difficult as it is for me. But.”

He breathed unsteadily.

Julian moved to support Garak now, one hand slipping to hold his, the other cupped against his cheek. He listened closely, static in his heart as he waited for some realisation, expecting a glimpse at the last fragment of the puzzle which Garak had been hiding pieces from for years.

Garak cleared his throat gently. “Whether we choose to start our family now, or well into the future, it seems there is a welcome option available to us, which would not require you to carry the unborn as you did before.”

“Leeta agreed to be our surrogate... But that would only work if I have viable eggs for you to fertilise.”

“I mean for it to be more personal, doctor. I— The truth is _I_ have the necessary parts to produce eggs.”

“Eggs.” Julian blinked. “ _Eggs_? Like like Human eggs? Internal? Or like bird – _lizard_ eggs? Snakes? Hard shells? The kind you lay and then keep warm in a nest?”

Garak smirked. He proceeded to evade the question. “My point is, Dr. Denett assures me it is perfectly possible for Cardassian and Human DNA to mix. And it is possible for me to carry a baby. Our baby.”

Julian felt like his consciousness drifted about a foot away from his body, sparkling with fuzz for a while before shrinking back into him, having absorbed and processed that fact. “You can get pregnant. Like I could.”

A thousand thoughts erupted before Julian had a chance to even breathe— Had Garak transitioned his gender at some point in the past and just wasn’t saying so directly? Or were Cardassian males and females not so different inside? Maybe they were like Terran clownfish, or moray eels, in that they could change sex at will. Perhaps it was to do with the temperature of incubation – that was a thing in Terran reptiles, wasn’t it? Regardless of whether Cardassians laid eggs, or incubated their young internally, perhaps the surrounding environment being hot or cold made a difference to the sex of the baby. So maybe Garak had been kept lukewarm prior to birth, and had always been as intersex as Julian was, but had waited until now to say anything because – well, it _was_ a special thing to find out, wasn’t it, and it totally made _sense_ he’d want to let Julian discover it for himself! The amount of _trust_ Garak was exhibiting, revealing his closest truths like this— A nice surprise, indeed. When was Jadzia ever wrong?

This was all blowing Julian’s mind, and he didn’t know where to even _start_ asking questions, so he gawped silently, thoughts hurtling around his brain at warp speed, eyes focused intently on Garak’s.

“Oh my God,” Julian eventually whispered, shaking with excitement. “Garak, oh my God!” A smile burst free, and he pushed into a brutal kiss, breathing hard.

They fell from each other with a trembling sigh, both grinning.

Soon they went still again, holding each other tight, heart-to-heart, chins over shoulders, catching their breath.

“Thank you,” Julian whispered, enlivened to his core. “ _Thank_ you for telling me.”

Garak pulled out of the hug and lowered his eyes, unsettled. “The only thing is, doctor,” he said, stroking Julian’s chin, his grin fading a little. Their eyes met. “I am likely to miscarry.”

Julian shook his head, furiously determined. “So we’ll keep trying. We will try and try and _try_ and hope that someday it happens. And it will. If I have anything to say about it, Elim, it’ll happen. And we’re going to love that child with everything we have. And we won’t be alone, either. We have a family. We have the biggest, most loving family. And we will not – stop – _trying_ until we bring whoever’s meant for us into a world meant for _them_.”

Garak held Julian and smiled, misty-eyed. “Then, my dear, I await the day it happens.”

Julian cried out in excitement and threw his arms around Garak’s neck, hugging him, rocking and swaying and squeezing so tightly that neither of them could breathe properly. He finally dropped back, sobbed, and then laughed, bowing his head to swipe away the hot tears of joy that striped his cheeks.

Garak hummed. He turned Julian around gently and held him from behind, one arm under his slow-shrinking bump, the other on his heart.

Julian swayed with Garak, comforted in his arms, loving the kisses he gave his neck.

“Garak?” Julian whispered.

“Hm?”

“Seriously, do you _lay_ eggs?”

Garak chuckled darkly, nuzzling Julian’s shoulder. “There are some mysteries I’d like to keep hold of, doctor. At least for now.”

“You’re going to drive me _mad_ , Garak, I hope you realise that.”

”Ah! So we have found the cure for love after all. I’d best bid you a fond farewell now, then.”

Julian threw his head back laughing. “Not on your life,” he promised. He rested his head on the side of Garak’s, and they shut their eyes together, facing but not looking at the universe beyond the porthole. “I’m sticking around.”

“Hm.” Garak kissed his shoulder, breathing out there. “In that case, my dear doctor... I shall stay with you.”

Well, of course.

If his dear Julian was here, Garak wouldn’t dare be anywhere else.

**{ the end }**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ [Art post!](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/617049243884109824/checks-notes-uhhhhhhh-one-order)
> 
> I just wanna take a moment to thank you for reading this. Please let me know if you enjoyed it! I’d really love to know your thoughts. ♥
> 
> [More of my Garashir fics can be found here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=8474&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=almaasi) And there’s more coming soon, so [subscribe if you want email updates~](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/) (I post my multi-chapter fics all in one go.)
> 
> I hope you find yourself unexpectedly surrounded by love, my dear space friends! And you soon receive much-deserved affection in exactly the way you need it. c:  
> Elmie x


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